The spirit of funky, far-out post-punkers such as This Heat, A Certain Ratio and 23 Skidoo charges through the thrilling debut album by this New York quartet, knocking over furniture and ruffling everyone’s hair up. But amid the chaos, YHWH Nailgun (pronounced Yahweh Nailgun) evade easy comparisons with a genuinely fresh and singular sound.
Their MVP is drummer Sam Pickard, whose playing is less backbeat than a series of fills repeated again and again: he sends you toppling into each new bar but also keeps you just about upright. Sometimes he fidgets at a high tempo, focusing on drum rims and tight hi-hats, to make indie-disco tracks for salsa-quality dancers; slower numbers such as Tear Pusher have an almost boom-bap hip-hop sensibility. The other half of the rhythm section isn’t bass guitar but synths: Jack Tobias’s playing on Iron Feet and Sickle Walk sounds like the serendipitously tuneful machinations of a lift shaft or slowing locomotive.
On top is astounding singer Zack Borzone, whose lyrics can’t really be made out, but they’re not the point anyway: Borzone is all about pure hoarse expression, or chatter that acts as its own funky percussion instrument. The synths mix almost imperceptibly with guitar from Saguiv Rosenstock to form a shifting murk at the bottom of the mix, but the drumming stays afloat – positively buoyant on the poppiest track here, Castrato Raw (Fullback). Punk-funk has long been a part of New York, but this feels like an evolutionary leap for the style.
