For a band dealing in noise and sonic possibilities, the niches at the coalface on which to get a foothold are few and far between. The sound has been mined for years and one has to wonder whether there are any new strains we’ve not heard somewhere before. Spectres certainly seem to think there are and, judging by their debut LP, Dying, they’re keen to prove this point to anyone within a thousand-mile radius.
Opener “Drag” is almost painfully onomatopoeic – however, where some noiseniks seem happy to sound like they're so full of louche ennui that they can barely be arsed to lean over the cusp of their own bed to flick ash at a wine glass, this sounds like the sort of inescapable wake which pulls everything into it in the manner of a black hole. The sound is, you see, quite big.
By the time we’re in to “Where Flies Sleep" we’ve been transported to the eye of a storm whipped up by volume, tremelo arms and a digital delay memory of Sonic Youth’s Daydream Nation. That’s not to imply copyist cacophony by any means, it’s just the nearest touchstone to hold on to as the whirlwind lifts us into “The Sky of All Places” and we begin to realise that this an album of soaring ambition. Where bands like Toy are accused by some of playing with psychedelia, Spectres appear to be trying to break it with dissonance. And hammers.
There are no highlights as such – it’s all hauntingly good – but there are surprises: the relative calm of “Family” before the song lurches into Ichabod and I - era Boo Radleys magnificence; the halting, stop-start arrhythmia lurch of “Mirror". The biggest surprise of all, however, is the uncompromising, unhinged and unfettered vision of the piece as a whole.
With Dying, Spectres are both unstoppable force and immovable object. This album says, "You’re welcome to climb on board, but if not, you’d better get out of the way." That’s more rock ‘n’roll than anything Royal Blood will ever have to offer.
Overleaf: watch the video for Spectres' Sea of Trees
