Such the dark majesty and ravening twisted exploits of debut album Danger Dance last year, we found it hard to imagine that Noseholes could eclipse its striking character and triumph. Well with its successor the German outfit has done just that whilst taking their sound into new intrigue loaded, virally compelling devilment. Ant And End has not wiped the floor with its illustrious predecessor but built on all its dark and aberrant brilliance to forge a whole new and sensational Noseholes escapade so easy to greedily devour.
Within a sound bred from the voracious instincts of post punk, no wave, and anomalous disco, the Hamburg hailing quartet of Henk Haiti, Steve Somalia, ZooSea Cide, and TH have ventured into darker corners and brighter trespasses with Ant And End. Still the body was a puppet to the band’s fiercely manipulative antics as they sprung a creative harassment to drool for, but the imagination was taken into the crevices of a more dystopian exploration bringing new esurient peril to their compulsive dance.
The album opens with Snowsuit Ranger and instantly roams the body with devious grooves and atypical enterprise. Rhythms tease and taunt, directing song and listener with their infernal bounce as eagerly tantalising vocals and deviant electronics are embraced by a quirky web of guitar. Like a distant relative of a merger between Au Pairs and Blood Red Shoes, the track is glorious, setting the voracious tone of the album and submissive mood of its victim alike.
The following IQ Model is just as rich a tempting, its gait a calmer virulent but clothed in mysterious atmospheric smog of intimation. The similarly reserved stroll of the radiantly dour bass fuels the blossoming industrial espionage of the song, vocals the magnetic narration to its seduction before the album’s title track got under the skin and had feet, hips, and instincts abound again. Whether an inspiration or coincidence, again eighties bred post punk/new wave spices up a slice of inescapable insistence, the likes of Delta 5, ESG, and Pylon hinted at.
The pure captivation of Vacuum Flies followed, its initial teasing shadows and suggestive drama alone hooking unbridled attention, the Essential Logic-esque flame of sax ear manna across the equally compelling rhythmic saunter which riveting vocals intimately drape over. With a Bauhaus hue adding to the pleasure, the song just mesmerised before letting Glimmering Mamba infest body and spirit with its hungry contagion. Not for the first or last time, there is a Gang Of Four lining to the irresistible rhythmic pestering, a nagging matched by the often simple but skilfully woven hooks and swarm of electronic baiting, but as always for all the hints given song and sound are unapologetically uniquely Noseholes.
Casino E Vino provides its own infective canter next, breeding a pandemic of temptation which lingers far beyond its final greed soaked lure while Radio Universe links its wires to body and imagination, the body in turn dangling and dancing like a willingly submissive puppet.
The album closes out with the pair of Jackson 4 and Baked Beans. The first springs its indie pop involved post punk exploits with boisterous intent, once more hooks and chords as lively and hungry as the inimitable rhythmic shuffle infesting is persuasion. Its successor though heavier, darker, and far more sinister manages to be even more viral like in its strands of temptation and collective jeopardy. Increasingly catchier and irresistible by the second, the track is a glorious end to a simply stunning album from Noseholes.
Ant And End provides one of those moments when music proves why it is the most addictive and vital thing in a chaos searching world; indeed the second such revelation with Noseholes.
Ant And End is out through ChuChu Records on May 17th; available @ https://noseholes.bandcamp.com/releases
https://www.facebook.com/pg/NoseholesBand/
Pete RingMaster 17/05/2019
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
It is a stirring rousing start easily backed by the sonic tapestry that is Akardos. Classic metal lined progressive wiring initiates the temptation, a great slim but rich prowling gait emerging before those early hues inflame the melodic enterprise of Schramm and lead guitarist Aaron Vogelsberg. Darker, heavier shadows soon infest the contagion, the esurient beats of Sam Baw uniting with the magnetic pulsation and lure of Jules RoCkwell’s bass. New threads of sound and styles continue to be keenly woven into the magnetic web before Dark Valley takes over the enslaving of ears and appetite. There is a bedlamic edge to Schramm’s vocals which quickly captured the imagination, one which only escalates across the song as musically too it nurtures an anarchic pandemonium within its skilfully bred infestation; the result which is maybe something akin to Dog Fashion Disco and Mudvayne meets The New Jacobin Club but is truly unique to Sober Truth.
Next up is Walls away, a far calmer affair with a melodic temperament which captivated from its initial lure. It has a raw undercurrent though which accentuates its elegance breeding, that aforementioned unpredictability lurking at every corner while Slaínte (Salud, dinero, amor) has a Celtic lining to its infectious festivities; an Irish Gaelic inspiration which again had the body bouncing across its primarily instrumental canter sharing “good health”.
The opening instrumental welcome of the excellent Auf Bifrösts Rücken rises up with drama and suggestion, its orchestral walls cinematic in their intimation as rhythms build solid foundations to the epic feel of the surroundings. Yet there is a melodic intimacy which equally tempts the imagination before the album’s title track with the same kind of majesty emerges. Swiftly dark tides and imposing rumblings surge as the track erupts into a rousing incitement of threat and seduction. Wieland’s vocals, raw and melodic, alone spark keen attention, their lure matched by the tidal currents and drama of the sounds. Singing in his home language the tale of the song and its companions evaded recognition but there was no escaping the Nordic and dramatic clues to the mercurial and ever darkening escapade.
Best track honours are seized by Splitter next, the rhythmic entrapment of Gumpoldsberger and Stirner inescapable from its opening strains and only intensified by the rolling attacks and belligerent grumble of drums and bass thereon in. Spice loaded grooves and a general rock ‘n’ roll swing only add to the track’s might with only the clean vocals for some reason and for once not quite connecting. Nevertheless it is a storming encounter which alone could have sparked an appetite for the band’s sound but is more than backed by the likes of Aurora and Phoenix. The first is an atmospheric tempting with alluringly portentous shadows around a rhythmic resonance, a union beguiling ears and imagination before its dark side rises up in invasive riffs and sonic trespass. That also brings a melodic and electronic enterprise which suggestive mystique setting up the adventurous rock ‘n’ roll of the second with the added attraction of female vocals and melody encased endeavours.
It opens up with Lovely lovelie, raw riffs and imposing rhythms in league from the first second surrounding the subsequent vocal agitation. Acidic melodies emerge to line the intensive trespass, a rhythmically driven groove invading body and appetite in no time too as the song stands over ears with almost bearish provocation while undulating spirals of cosmic light simmer and burn. There is a primal edge and urgency to the encounter too, a waking up of the senses and thoughts which by its final repetitive shimmer has attention firmly hooked.
A just as potent rhythmic lure fuels the following post punk shuffle of Lush Box. Spirals of guitar and flames of sax latch onto the swagger of beats and bass; the song’s jazz bred discord and post punk dance bouncing around like a Delta 5 meets Blood Red Shoes tango before Styling shares its own riveting devilment with a similar but quickly individual template of flavours. To be honest the rhythmic heart of the first trio had us trapped hook, line and sinker, all the other psyche infesting imagination icing on their inimitable cake with only the briefness of each song a frustration, a common niggle across the album.