Bred from the seeds of eighties post punk and synth pop, the Model Depose sound has only nurtured and forged its own identity since the Netherland band’s first release back in 2013 and within new album, Damage Control, has cast its richest individuality and temptation yet.
The Groningen hailing outfit openly bear their inspirations on their creative sleeves with maybe a Depeche Mode influence the strongest yet they have increasingly been woven into the commanding imagination of the band. Damage Control though is most unique offering from the quartet yet. Certainly across its tapestry of flavours embracing dark and new wave, indie pop and post rock among many to that post punk/electro pop core certain shadow wrapped moments and electronic breaths sparked thoughts of the likes of Marc Almond, Editors, Modern English, Dead Register and the original Human League alongside Dave Gahan and co, yet every track rose to share its own rare presence of familiarity and uniqueness.
Damage Control opens up with Wights and quickly had attention secured as the rich vocals of Roeland van der Velde stepped forward within an electronic shimmering. An emotive lining to his tones are echoed in the synth shared melodies of Mariët Gast and the almost nagging jingle of Jobbe Holtes’ guitar, the song in no time an eager captivation. Their warm lures though are courted by dark shadows, bassist David Bos prowling their intimation as thicker and increasing drama marries every note and syllable. It is an enthralling almost haunting beginning to the album, its grip on the imagination already in place and only tightened thereon in.
Stranger follows and equally has melancholy for company as van der Velde again immediately impresses. There is a fire in the song’s dark belly though which without truly igniting gives it energy and intensity, the former ensnaring hips and the latter an emotive engagement. By its finale, its Depeche Mode-esque catchiness is in full swing yet without defusing its darkened breath.
The album’s title track follows and immediately had the body bouncing with its eager bold rhythms and the scything strikes of guitar behind again the rich invitation of vocals. The song is pure esurient contagion getting under the skin in no time and using body and spirit like a puppet as electronic and indie rock textures collude and roar in defiance. A definite favourite song contender it is quickly matched by the darkly lit virulence of Red Alert. There is a Muse like tint to the song, its evocative almost dissonant thoughts and breath united with instinctive rock ‘n’ roll catchiness which itself has something of She Wants Revenge to it.
Through the crepuscular but inflamed serenade of Blackstar and the light of magnetism that is Cold War, there was no loosening of the album’s hold on ear and pleasure. The second of the two features the guest vocals of Groningen-based singer/songwriter FENN and her duet with van der Velde is worth the admission fee alone while their successor, Drawing the Line, brings an electro rock incitement which again had body and imagination doing its contagious bidding. It is another which makes a firm claim for favourite album moment, the track sheer temptation from first to last second.
#Dancelikenooneiswatching has an electro punk sneer to its synth pop calling, the track predominately a slice of rock dexterity smouldering with a host of other spices and quite addictive while the riveting Yesterday’s Gloom is a tenebrific croon with tempestuousness in its heart and intensity. Both tracks epitomise the diversity of sound within Damage Control but equally the unity of the Model Depose breath and craft to ear catching enterprise.
The album concludes with the pair of 03:00Am and bonus track Bombs Are Falling, the first an atmospherically evocative seduction within a sunless yet beguiling landscape and the second a gripping post-traumatic stress themed expression of power, intensity and magnetic craft.
Together they provide a potent end to a striking release, one which with its influences fits in with the eighties scene many of those inspirations come from but is firmly as fresh and adventurous as anything within the electronic /indie rock landscape Damage Control now lights up.
Damage Control is out now through Trisol Music Group across most stores.
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Pete RingMaster 22/10/2019
Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright
It is a strong and pleasing start but for us only a teaser to greater moments starting with the album’s stirring title track. With something of a Modern English meets John Foxx era Ultravox breeze across its spiky but fluid motion, the track has a wealth of hooks and melodic wiring at its disposable courtesy of the imagination of guitarists Andy Nelson and Anthony Anzaldo with synths just as skilfully manipulative before Further I Was reaps the temptation of both for its own body of virulence. One of those moments when that Devo reference is most keen, the song strolls along springing new wave contagion and post punk dynamics, the angular delivery of Farrar matched by the jerkiness of riffs and rhythms with the swinging beats of Jake Casarotti alone a rousing incitement.
Time is Come steps up next, again its initial coaxing shadow lined before bursting out with radiant melodies and vocal encouragement. Equally keen pulses core the lively croon with the song’s gait and energy as bold as it is spirited, a whiff of A Flock Of Seagulls only adding to the song’s infectious captivation before Negative Resolutions emerges with a darkwave breath, bubbles of pop soon joining the tempting before synths weave a tapestry of melodic intimation over an electro grumble. When its poppiness catches the song infested the body while its darker melancholic calmer moments are alone pure fascination.
It is an outstanding start which swiftly aroused a keen appetite for things to come; one soon reinforced by the following In Between Worlds. It too springs from a raw sonic misting into a virulent attack, its swing eating at instincts and psyche with viral tenacity whilst spreading another exploration of stark, ravenous times. There is more of a noise infested rock ‘n’ roll attack to its post punk, bass and drums a rapacious incitement upon which guitars and keys spread a toxic glaze while escalating the infectious and fractious catchiness of the song.
The album’s title track brings a scuzzier breath to ears; its post punk irritability echoed in the John Lydon textured vocals but again there is a repetitious coaxing teasing and tempting at the centre of the fuzz ball which necessitates only submission to its infectious demands. As its predecessor, it brings another hue to Defeated as does next up Burn Yourself, though its electro punk surge is akin to the opener. With the increasingly magnetic vocals almost gliding over the tides of noise springing from synths and guitar, it was so easy to be swept up in the raw yet skilfully nurtured arms of the track as thoughts colluded with its lyrical insight. Defeated is described as “a reaction to mounting disappointments and frustrations with increasingly frustrating and disappointing realities” and with intimacy and a worldly observation its often dissonant words hit the spot whilst almost arguing with the rousing catchiness of their vehicles.
As with their first album, the band’s sound harkens back to eighties post punk/new wave and their gothic companions but with a bolder identity and imagination belonging to Secret Shine. It opens with Lowest Point, the initial coaxing mist of synths soon joined by the atmospheric lures of guitar and bass, keys simultaneously thickening as melodies simmer and echo in the ears. The instrumental’s shadows carry over into the following Stage Lights where the mesmeric groan of the bass and aligning dark textures seduce the imagination ready for the song’s spirited stroll which erupts soon after. Like a fusion of Leitmotiv and The Sound the track dances on the senses, its rhythmic shuffle sculpting their own catchy charm to the temptation. Superb in voice and enterprise, the song swiftly grips attention, vocals as enticing as the sounds around them and with a great nagging essence to its tenacious rhythms, infectious melodies, and tantalising hooks, the tone and heart for the album is set.
Next up Plastic Noosphere is no less a tempting; its own instinctive catchiness immediately grabbing body and appetite as guitars and keys conjure individually descriptive enterprise for a B-Movie meets She Wants Revenge like offering with a nagging rhythmic persistence from Guido and Accossato recalling the likes of Leitmotiv. As its predecessor, the song has ears in the palm of its creative hand before In Heaven provides a fiery romancing of ears with its steely guitar bred melodies, melancholic yet inviting bassline, and fuzzy keys. A thicker intensity and drama does little to lessen an inbred infectiousness in the Estetica Noir sound, rather showing the variety and imagination nurturing it, echoed again in the likes of Suicide Walk and I Hate.