“That’s just noise.” If you like any kind of alternative music, you’ve heard this epithet before, supposedly derogatory, demeaning. Japan’s Endon, an act lauded for being one of the most extreme in the Tokyo music underground, would revel in the label. But to limit them by calling them ‘just’ anything would be an unforgivable mistake.
‘Through The Mirror’, the bands second full-length, is a roiling mass of breathless force, a complex, organic creature of sinewy riffs, throbbing electronics and muscular, rippling rhythms. Make no mistake, it’s by no means an easy listen. Opener ‘Neve Rain’ is cacophonous; thumping drums bristle beneath slowly looping audio chaos. The drums are the only constant, a handhold in an abrasive squall of synths and guitar. The band cannily use brief moments of silence, punctuating with abrupt lucidity, mere seconds for one to catch their breath before dragging you back into the mire of aural intensity. It confronts the listener, deliberately serving to sort the wheat from the chaff.
‘Your Ghost Is Dead’ skitters in on shimmering cymbals before racing away on the backs of messy guitar tremolo, rapid drumming propelling things along. Taichi Nagura weighs in with guttural shouts worthy of the filthiest death metal, and frankly inhumanly high, animalistic screeches. There’s almost surf-rock guitar doing battle with skipping, hardcore drumming and a hamstrung, limping groove, but the band mesh it effortlessly like mashing together ill-fitting puzzle pieces with a closed fist. ‘Born In Limbo’ phases in with groaning synth layers and random noise, like flicking through TV channels in hell, before echoing electronic layers skitter and crawl in over stuttering industrial drums. Layers of atonal guitar riffs are buried beneath dense layers, screamed vocals attacking in stereo, a bluesy guitar break slowly buckling, squealing in protest.
‘Pensum’ tumbles in, all muscular, hardcore fury and barked vocals. Machine gun drumming sees Shin Yokota laying down absolutely furious fills without breaking a sweat (his consistency and variation throughout this album sees him put in one of the performances of the year, sticks down), the righteous, rolling grooves exhaust themselves blisteringly fast. ‘Postsex’ creeps in with building synths, bursting into layers of crescendo, dragged along by merciless blastbeats. Breathless vocals and a slick, metallic groove have things sounding like a manic circus ride slowly grinding itself apart.
Random spasms of drums usher in ‘Perversion Till Death’, pensive guitar siting uncomfortably atop the fractious percussion. Burbling, squawking electronics wind their way around, becoming bitter, hateful noise. Things slowly build into a slow, irresistible roll, completely filthy vocals roaring into the depths of the doomy crawl. It’s predatory, bleak, torturous, an endurance test of shuddering, chugging riffs and howling, crazed voices. Title track ‘Through The Mirror’ is all bright, jangling guitars, injecting a manic positivity before devolving into a grinding whip, rocked by rapidly descending drum fills. A relentlessly fast section engages hyperspeed, collapsing into breathy sobs and whimpers before resolving into a post-rock-esque section of triumphant drama and sweeping scope.
Closer ‘Torch Your House’ is a true surprise. Slowly fading, oddly gentle synths and meandering guitar create a light, airy feel, trippy backmasking and spacious reverb leaving you looking over your shoulder, waiting for the hammer to come down and crack your skull. A restrained, stately pace sees droning guitars trade off with cymbal heavy drums, Nagura’s yelped screeches marking their territory but not hampering the infectiously positive overtones. Things widen out effortlessly, briefly indulging in breaking apart into a wall of noise, but once more taking on the easy groove and lighter, more graceful vibes, adding strummed acoustic lines before closing with threatening, meaty chug and an abrupt climax.
Make no mistake, ‘Through The Mirror’ isn’t for everyone. A writhing, spiteful, complex and confrontational experience, Endon leave you in no uncertain terms that they don’t give a solitary shit if you don’t ‘get’ what they do. Everything here is executed with that certain je ne sais quoi you’ve come to expect from Japanese acts from the extreme music world, an intensity and willingness to defy convention echoed by the likes of their countrymen in Church of Misery, Boris and Corrupted. Captured with that inimitable Kurt Ballou touch, for those of an open minded disposition, Endon take you firmly by the neck and hurl you face first through the mirror. This might just be your album of the year.
JAY HAMPSHIRE