Noj: Waxing Moon 12"
Introducing 'Waxing Moon,' the debut release from Berlin neo-nihilists, Noj. Waxing Moon takes the listener on a tense trip, pulsating through 9 chunky tweaked out tracks of industrial post punk whose combo of punishing percussion, antagonistic basslines, broken glass guitar and cool, bloodless vocals conjure visions of a cyberpunk version of The Birthday Party with Trent Reznor on synth, produced by a young Rob Zombie. An undeniably German swagger is present throughout, decorating a chilling Carpenter-esque sense of foreboding. Like sisyphus rolling the stone, each song gathers momentum as if it may build on a promise, keeping the listener in anticipation of some great crescendo or divine reason for being… before abruptly ending with the realisation that the journey was the anticipation, hopes dashed, collapsing new buildings.
( Chris Onton / Diät, Das Nest )
Introducing 'Waxing Moon,' the debut release from Berlin neo-nihilists, Noj. Waxing Moon takes the listener on a tense trip, pulsating through 9 chunky tweaked out tracks of industrial post punk whose combo of punishing percussion, antagonistic basslines, broken glass guitar and cool, bloodless vocals conjure visions of a cyberpunk version of The Birthday Party with Trent Reznor on synth, produced by a young Rob Zombie. An undeniably German swagger is present throughout, decorating a chilling Carpenter-esque sense of foreboding. Like sisyphus rolling the stone, each song gathers momentum as if it may build on a promise, keeping the listener in anticipation of some great crescendo or divine reason for being… before abruptly ending with the realisation that the journey was the anticipation, hopes dashed, collapsing new buildings.
( Chris Onton / Diät, Das Nest )
Original: $18.00
-70%$18.00
$5.40Description
Introducing 'Waxing Moon,' the debut release from Berlin neo-nihilists, Noj. Waxing Moon takes the listener on a tense trip, pulsating through 9 chunky tweaked out tracks of industrial post punk whose combo of punishing percussion, antagonistic basslines, broken glass guitar and cool, bloodless vocals conjure visions of a cyberpunk version of The Birthday Party with Trent Reznor on synth, produced by a young Rob Zombie. An undeniably German swagger is present throughout, decorating a chilling Carpenter-esque sense of foreboding. Like sisyphus rolling the stone, each song gathers momentum as if it may build on a promise, keeping the listener in anticipation of some great crescendo or divine reason for being… before abruptly ending with the realisation that the journey was the anticipation, hopes dashed, collapsing new buildings.
( Chris Onton / Diät, Das Nest )
