ninehertz

Back to the land of GNOD we go, venturing into the second instalment of the trilogy of chronicles scheduled for release this year on Rocket Recordings.

As with the first chapter – and, let’s face it, GNOD’s modus operandi across decades now – they take you on a journey that transcends a mere musical listening experience, taking you on a meditative journey through repetitious patterning. The middle three tracks really push its objectives through experimental means, where minimalist passages feel aimless then whirr into life, or seemingly crazed ramblings are shot through with a spark of genius just as you begin to question its reasoning.

They are bookended by two marvellous tracks, GNOD at their most cohesively enlightening. The Witness starts the whole album with a rather jaunty beginning, a slightly warped bluesy guitar line that is ever so simple but tricks its way into your head. When it finally moves on from there it’s almost with a sadness, but as the pace increases it simply moves it into a different avenue of cool, effortless as ever.

It closes with Strangled, where they are joined by Mancunian poet Laure McLean, adding a new vocal delivery angle, joined by a heavier beat. A tumultuous air hosts this clandestine meeting, moody and with a tangible threatening edge that could burst any time, and despite that still manages to lock you into their hypnotic web, as they seemingly always manage, dragged willingly by McLean’s voice and held there by the repeating rhythms.

Two thirds through, the Chronicles of Gnowt have lived up to and exceeded the excitement on hearing of the triple release year plan early on in 2026. Twenty years in, GNOD are stronger than ever. Roll on volume three.