Alternative rock has spent the last twenty years trying to decide whether the 90s were a golden age or a museum exhibit. Thankfully, Belgian trio Virgin Prozak seem largely uninterested in that debate.
Seven years after forming in Namur and following a pair of well-received EPs (‘Plethora’ I & II), the band finally unleash their debut full-length album, ‘Sinecure’. Eight tracks, plenty of riffs, a healthy disregard for musical trends and enough raw energy to make your smartwatch think you’re exercising.
The thing about grunge is that most people remember the flannel shirts, the haircuts and the mythology. What often gets forgotten is the urgency. The feeling that the music was alive, slightly dangerous and occasionally on the verge of falling apart. Virgin Prozak understand that distinction remarkably well.
Rather than attempting to recreate a bygone era, ‘Sinecure’ borrows from the spirit that made alternative rock matter in the first place. There are traces of Jane’s Addiction, Queens of the Stone Age, Helmet, Refused, Every Time I Die and The Bronx scattered throughout the record, but the album never feels trapped by its influences. It feels like three musicians more interested in writing good songs than ticking genre boxes.
That approach has been years in the making. Since emerging in 2017, Virgin Prozak have steadily built a reputation on stage, refining a sound that blends grunge melancholy, heavy rock muscle and punk urgency. The arrival of bassist Vincent (Lethvm, Graave) has further expanded the band’s dynamic range, bringing additional vocal depth and a sharper edge to the band’s already potent formula.
Produced alongside Tino De Martino (Channel Zero, La Muerte), recorded by Nicola Lomartire (Goliath, Lethvm, Villenoire) and mastered by Tim De Gieter (Doodseskader), Sinecure sounds exactly as it should: powerful, direct and refreshingly human. No unnecessary polish, no studio trickery masquerading as personality.
In an era where algorithms seem increasingly convinced they know what people want to hear, Virgin Prozak offer a simple alternative: loud guitars, genuine emotion and songs written by actual human beings. Revolutionary? Not really. Refreshing? Absolutely.
And sometimes, that’s exactly what’s needed.
