Willzyx – “Willzyx”
Willzyx is a weird name. Don’t ask me how to pronounce it.
Willzyx is a weird band. And now you expect me to describe them?
But when I say strange that’s all in a good way- an exciting, compelling way.
Their music is hard to categorize, it’s always surprising, it’s always interesting, and it’s always rewarding (fun) to hear.
Listening to their music is like traveling through a fun house where startling music leaps out at you. But it’s not just excitement and thrills. It’s like visiting strange and exotic places or surreal lands- unique and rewarding (fun) to see.
They’re from the exotic land of Manchester, New Hampshire and claim to play “cetacean noise metal,” and have names like Xela, Niloc, Nai and Nhoj. (BTW a cetacean is a marine mammal like a whale, dolphin of porpoise.) Glad we cleared that up. On their bandcamp they tag “experimental, grind, math, metal, noise.”
Me, I’d say if King Crimson decided to become a grindcore band then they’d probably sound like this.
I think most prog rock is pompous bullshit but this band takes the good parts, match it with some great, emotional hardcore vocals, throws in some excellent, grind/metal guitar and, most importantly, a will and an eagerness to jut off wildly in any direction with little regard for the bloodshed or broken limbs left behind.
But let’s listen and see if they live up to their name:
“Lord Umbilical” starts with some cool, double bended notes that crash into a hardcore vocal assault. “Every Goddamn day I sink my head into the blender. In hopes that someday it will fit.” This is followed by a funk guitar riff (reminding me of the great, local, eighties art/punk band The Dark.) And soon a twittering, trilling guitar lead enters, enveloping the screaming, emotion filled vocals. But then we turn the page onto a slow, abstract passage with subterranean moans. But then, soon enough- we’re led into a smashing, rhythmic hardcore rant that evolves into a poly-rhythmic prog rhythm and ends with a car alarm malfunctioning. My description may suck but this song is really great.
“Caught Flies” is a hardcore/prog tune with venomous vocals backed by hard hitting, precise, funk rhythms. At one point the music replicates a donkey’s “hee-haw” on the guitar. This is song that whirls around like a tornado where you’re unsure of what is gonna be dragged in next. Lots of dissonant/noise notes flying by to compliment the emotive vocals. “Courier of flies. Did you want to die? Well, we all want to die! We all die sometime.” And the last part of the song is a liquid, reggae part that, of course, gets flushed away quickly. Probably seventeen styles of music are touched upon, in this great song, in a minute and a half.
“Oracle Omelette” swims in a placid rhythm of apreggiated notes and echo-drenched dream like vocals with the music swirling at the end of each line. That is until it metamorphosis into a funk/prog/hardcore freak out! “Realize, that we wanted to be found. We all need that one to keep us down.” The music then erupts into a part with heavy rhythm and great, hysterical hardcore vocals until it abruptly returns, to the calm passage of the beginning. While all of this is going on, eventually an evangelist diatribe is placed upon this. “Show me the money!” This is a mesmerizing, wonderful tune.
With some industrial like hits and notes flying off in a tangent, “Honey On My Tulip,” starts out as a hardcore tune that will beat all the other cars to the finish. And after a short passage where we smash headlong onto the hardcore speedway- what follows is an emotional, vocal lurch that is answered by a disjointed, rhythmic surge with guttural, almost death vocals. Like the other tunes there’s many stops and destinations along the way. But this may be my favorite song on the EP and leads us to the end of our wondrous musical journey.
This is progressive music like it was meant to be played. This is adventurous, impeccably played songs that is not just a vehicle for someone to wank their guitar to. But to make some creative, powerful, uncompromising, relentless music that knocks you upside the head while also, giving you something of substance to ponder, that is, once you regain consciousness.
I don’t know how to pronounce Willzyk.
I don’t really care.
What I do know is how to recognize great music, when I hear it.
It’s right here.
(Slimedog)
