In September 2023, we appreciated Slutavverkning’s unique blend of noise-rock, punk and acid-jazz that shined through their EP ‘Skruva, spika, hamra’, which marked a postscript to their first full-length Levande Charader — a twisted, theatrical, self-recorded manifesto of avant-garde intent. Now the Stockholm-based outfit returns with Skräp, a four-track EP out September 5th on Feral Cuts, and led by the single “Den mänskliga vredens arkitekter”, released July 28th.
Slutavverkning — formed in 2018 by Pelle Andersson, Jon Ekström, and Marcus Källström — has always leaned into the grotesque. Their early trilogy Arbetets sorgemusik del I-III paired proletarian tension with acid-jazz freakouts, while their 2023 debut album twisted those elements into something darker and even less predictable. With the addition of Per Wiberg (ex-Opeth, Candlemass) on bass and Isak Hedtjärn (Fire! Orchestra, Grismask) on clarinet and saxophone, the band pushed further into a territory that isn’t easy to classify — but definitely theirs.
Skräp captures that evolution without smoothing any edges. “I just wanted to write a straight punk-rock song… but when I started playing the riff, Marcus reacted with an unexpected Bonham-style groove, Isak conjured some truly crazy bird-squawk out of his clarinet, as Per slipped a melodic bass line underneath. They totally changed the character of the song, to the better of course!” said guitarist Pelle Andersson about the lead track.
“Den mänskliga vredens arkitekter” is built around the lyrical narrative of an outsourced violence industry — a contractor of extermination posing as a domestic service. The lyrics, written and delivered by Jon Ekström, are absurd and brutal:
“Röjning / Gallring / Slutavverkning / Styckning / Flåning / Mänsklig avveckling”
“Vi är ett blodigt företag / i mänsklighetens tjänst”
It reads like a corporate manifesto for human disposal. “This song is about waste management — by fear!” Ekström said. “I’ve been watching too much news… or too much Sopranos?”
Like the rest of the band, Ekström performs with a kind of grotesque commitment to the character. Speaking about his process on the previous album, he explained: “To find the voice of this man, I did stuff with my body and vocal chords that’s not suitable to print. But it did contain nudity, pigs, and various beverages.”
Hedtjärn’s eerie contributions on clarinet and saxophone — already prominent on Levande Charader — remain central to the sound. His playing ranges from guttural to chaotic, adding a warped elegance to the mess. Wiberg’s bass work, far from just a foundation, slips in and out of the disarray, often carrying its own melodic ideas beneath the distortion.
The production on Skräp keeps things raw. No polish, no restraint. It’s recorded live, mixed and mastered by Andersson. The EP’s name — literally “trash” — seems fitting, but not in the pejorative sense. It’s a reclamation, as if the band’s approach is to salvage what’s rotten in society and make it speak.
Slutavverkning still sound like themselves — jagged, unnerving, politically charged — but Skräp is tighter and more volatile than previous efforts. It moves fast, wastes nothing, and leaves a mark. The band describes the EP as boiling down the spirit of their early EPs and the experimental weight of their debut LP into a new, lean form.
Available on limited 7” vinyl and digital platforms starting September 5, the EP will continue the group’s run through Sweden’s margins, pushing their noise-jazz-punk fusion further into the absurd and the uncomfortable.
