ninehertz

There’s a strong argument, one I’d agree with, for crowning Moloch as the best sludge band this country has ever produced, even taking into account the rich scene of bands we’ve enjoyed over the last two decades and more, and the one massive elephant (or is it a Monkey?) in the room also from Nottingham with historical importance.

Moloch have been a steady consistency in the ugliest side of the sound for such a long time now, records that are landmarks in the genre and one of the best live bands you can see; it was true of them back when they started and remains so. The anomaly lies in the fact this Bend. Break. Kneel, Crawl. is only their third full length, but if anything only ramps up the excitement for its release.

The names of those involved in its production are all familiar – James Atkinson, Boulty, James Plotkin; Superfi and Dry Cough Records – which is of no surprise. The whole thing sounds incredible, bristling with that urgent, dispirited energy that is the core of sludge. The familiarity of it, hearing the band that you know of from your favourite gigs, is something that keeps coming back, getting that thrill from the comfort of your own home.

Chris’ scorched earth, acerbic vocals are as ever a sonic weapon for Moloch to wield, setting them apart. Right through to its end, on the excellent closing Mother Medusa, the vitriol holds firm and true, as the guitar shimmers and batters in revolving turns. The middle section of the album descends into various stamping, clunking waves shattering through venomous metronomic riffs of despair.

You feel in something of a daze as it ends, released from its spell, removed from the despondency of its attack. Moloch have created an album that showcases the best that sludge can be. It was never in doubt.