Daast
Human Remains
Phage Tapes
The sweeping synths that open the new release from Manchester-based industrial act Daast may lull you into a false sense of security, but at least it’s short-lived; before long “All Your Saints are On Fire” is a minefield of fast-moving rhythmic noise percussion and glass-throated growling vocals, a template that sticks through most of Human Remains. While simple, it’s a plan of attack that the project finds plenty of different applications for, taking it into near dark-electro territory with snatches of warbling detuned synths on “Work Yr Body”, taking it into minimal synth via the T-800 factory on the title tracks, and invoking the classic Ant-Zen powernoise vibe on “High Rise” and “Tormentor”. The noisy menace of the record matches lyrical concerns on display; lines like “Reduce your screentime” and “Lust of the Goat/Wrath of Lion” don’t seem like they’d inhabit the same area code, but taken in aggregate they add to the record’s commanding misanthropy that wavers between calls for discipline, scorn and disappointment with full commitment. It’s gnarly stuff for certain, but no more so than the era it navigates, a grimy reflection not just of a callous world, but the dangers that inhabit it.
Blokkontrol
Blok 1
self-released
The period and style new Ukranian act Blokkontroll is tapping into is apparent from the initial attack of “Labarint”‘s frantic, acidic arpeggios and blocky kicks. 90s dark electro and EBM are the clear order of the day, with any number of Antler-Subway and Zoth Ommog releases likely coming to the seasoned listener’s mind by the time that cut comes to a close. That it can evoke early X-Marks and Leaether Strip so clearly even though there’s barely any modulation in it is reflective of the Blok 1 EP as a whole; there’s no attempt to reinvent the wheel or even look at it from a slightly askew angle here, you’re just getting fifteen minutes of classic, down the pipe early 90s industrial club fare, and pretty decent fare by that measure. The production and recording are pleasantly rough around the edges, but aren’t being used to hide any deficiencies, and the directness of the vocals (without a lyric sheet handy I can’t speak as to whether or not they refer to the current war) and programming is engaging throughout. By the time agreppo-flavoured closer “Vertikal” swaggers its flanged bassline to the finish line, you might not have heard anything you haven’t heard before, but I’m guessing you’ll be happy to have had a reminder of how enjoyable this style can be when it’s done with aggression and without compromise.
