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Gnod – Mirror


Gnod - MirrorOn the back of last year’s Infinity Machines double comes this dinky three tracker, the traumatic jazz of yore siphoned into some gloriously sculpted discord – 36 minutes that are seriously pissed off.

A notion that gathers momentum on the slinky low-slung beginnings of the opener – a Jah Wobble dub, all languid and wanting. “There’s too many faces in the mirror!”, exclaims Paddy. “I can’t decide which one a want to wear today”. His vocals swimming a rich amniotic custard, a sense of the ever-encroaching world weighting heavy. The words tightening and the music darkens to a sense of futility – the austerity autopilot that continues to tear away at the fabric – the blind troupe of terrorism, the fucked over, the forgotten. All finger-spinning the music’s contours pitted in steady drummed thumps, a murmuring shadow fork-tonguing every word to glinting eyes of fret.

A well-crafted ascent burnished in spirals of dialogue, flowing words enforced in carbolic guitars. “This dull existence… This complete lack of resistance” – demons sardonically sniggering beneath, the bass sounding unholy, corrosive, the guitars hitting the forefront to “Wake up… “aaaaakkkkkke uuuup!”, strumming a wholesomely brutal nose-to-nose zeal with retracted squeals of lushdom.

A mantle that the second track picks up from in Godflesh-like pummels of chord. A slow tempo(ed) hammering with a tasty touch of early Swans megalomania about it. Noisy Cthulhu-candy macabreing the alarm siren(ed) blues and twos, like some brilliant disaster caught in a dirging overspill. Divine energies spiral-staircasing, as that über-heavy bass eats into the drums’ recoil with a nagging hunger.

What happens when your dreams turn in your deepest nightmares? — lyrics falling into alternating yells, guitars swaying serpent-like around the spittled words that feed the magnificent closing track. The 18-minute dystopia of “Sodom & Gomorrah” is announced by a monkish chantology, a sparrowed dawn bayoneted in blunt percussive strikes and wisping Middle Eastern-isms spooning a firm jaw line. An incessant vibe that oasis clears in reverbed goblins and tinkling bells, only to return with a pagan zeal, burring a heavy rumbling frustration as words splash the concrete like a ill-advised takeout.

Mirror is pummelling and savage – discord that speaks volumes for our times. Top-notch and ludicrously good.

-Michael Rodham-Heaps-

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