Disastrously late once again with a review, here’s Hedonix with their first artist album from about six months ago. I know, I’m shit — I’m crap, useless, slow, whatever. Nobody relies on reviews anymore, they download from blogs and ‘preview’ music instead. The world is rubbish. Bah!
Anyway, this is good. I’ve had this for six sodding months and when the tracks pop up now and again on shuffle, initially I’m thinking to myself that this is from the turn of the millenium, when music was inventive and had its foot firmly on the accelerator pedal, but wasn’t sure whether it was going to be alive in six months when the apocalyps/Y2K bug does/does not do its thing/lack of thing.
Hedonix’s sound is deep, chunky progressive. Think Sensient’s weird, withdrawn half-brother who collects cats and stalks Christopher Walken. The music unfolds without being pushed or forced, and it maintains a tight and geared energy throughout.
The Riddle Of Consciousness sums up what it means to be Hedonix: slightly disturbed, slightly wobbly, slightly comical, and stumbling upon moments of glistening brilliance in a Robert Anton Wilson-sampling breakdown, a delightfully squelchy main melody, and a final run that’s a sharp reminder of who we all are, where we’re all from, and what makes us want to get out there and do what we do.
For hypnoticism, Ze Germans does exceptionally well — you’re sucked in to a bottom-end that’s somehow unfathomable, with the various sounds almost indistinguishable from each other. It’s not often you encounter a track that makes you listen to it from within; I’m reminded of those Snake Thing tracks that came out on Tip in 1972, or whenever it was.
Another honorable mention goes to track 7, Sirius Business, which I hope it a dig at Sirius Isness, who I fucking hate. Sirius Business — the track here, let’s not get confused — it bloody lovely, there’s an almost Cosmosis-y sound to the acidic squelches and a sort of compression on the main lines that almost give it a beamed-through-time feel. Additional brownie points for a breakdown that doesn’t actually break down, chord progressions that are not shit, and an energy that makes me want to turn the volume up until it will turn up no more. The final minute and a half is utter, shameless fluoro heaven.
Order Out Of Chaos is a delight. It’s rare to be confronted with an album that’s as devoutly different as thi, and there’s more confidence in sound than one might reasonably expect from artists at an early stage of their career. The production is a little homespun, and lacks some of the definition that top-shelf mastering would no doubt be able to bring to the table, but this ‘unglassiness’ only adds to the leftfield indie chic of the entire package (which, for extra points once more, contains a picure of cieling cat. The clincher for many, I imagine.)