Negative Gears Moraliser
- Format
12 Inch
Black
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‘Up here in my tower, I can see the west through the haze, The kids across the street are learning, I’m trying not to rust’ (Ants)
What would being trapped in a negative gear feel like? Anyone who had the misfortune of listening to what passed for economic debate in the recent UK General Election might be able to hazard a guess – the grinding, churning failed consensus of ‘fiscal discipline’ and trickle-down economics being blindly dredged once again, leaving communities relentlessly battered and civic infrastructure fundamentally decayed. Imagine harnessing the fury that this vacuous debate induced and using it to forge bleakly discordant, but ineffably catchy post-punk. There you go, welcome to Moraliser.
Hailing from Sydney, Negative Gears made their debut with an excellent self-titled 12-inch in 2019, although the sketched cover art of a man diving headfirst on to a razor blade still stalks my subconscious. The five-year interlude has been used very wisely indeed. A propulsively resonant rhythm section, blessed with some wonderfully pulsating bass lines, sets the fluid tone through which the taut, melancholically dissonant melodies are woven, alongside electronic flare-ups and skeletal piano. Meanwhile, the vocals are austerely detached, a detachment not born of apathy, but rather a palpable, bristling contempt for the priorities of our late-stage capitalist society.
Choppy opener, Negative Gear (‘The puritan idea, Of virtue through suffering, Justifying my self-harm, Is ironically lost on me’) kicks things off perfectly, prior to the band delivering an absolute killer one-two. The utterly infectious Ants, with its haunting mantra of ‘I’m alone in paradise’, explores our increasingly segregated cities, and then the blisteringly acerbic semi-spoken word of Attention To Detail (‘Lost in the belief, Belief you deserve it, I wonder if you’ll even figure out if it was worth it’), which you have no choice but to chant along with in doomed unison, dissects how we’ve all become lost in the warped rationality of these increasingly dystopian times.
And the impetus doesn’t dim on the flipside. The band continue to explore themes of social alienation and isolation on the darkly off-kilter Pills and hypnotic Connect, before the swirling frustrations and dashed hopes of Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet brings the album to a furious finale that is as lyrically desolate as it is musically uplifting.