Nottingham three-piece Kagoule have been hard grafting for three years in the build up to the release of their début album Urth. Released on Nottingham indie label Earache Records, better known for put releasing albums at the extreme end of the metal spectrum, Urth strongly resists categorisation. Yet another band completely obsessed with groups who were making music whilst they were still learning to walk, Kagoule pull upon the complexities of post-hardcore such as Fugazi and Unwound as well as the biggest sounding bands of alternative rock such as The Smashing Pumpkins. Like many debuts it represents a culmination of everything the band has worked on leading up to its creation.
The album opens with ‘Gush’, a wiry guitar riff and skeletal drums set askew by bending guitar notes that ping around in the peripheries of the stereo field.
The burst of chorus comes to an alarming halt like the plug has been pulled and the most melodic part of the song is withheld to the last thirty seconds of the song, with lead singer Cai sighing “I need to get away / I can’t believe it’s come to this”. As a statement it’s a sign of things to come for the rest of the album, Kagoule are very happy to dismantle what are tightly crafted pop songs in favour build something far more interesting.
‘Adjust the Way’ has so many changes in its dynamics its enough to make your head spin. At one moment its chugging along like a heavy duty truck, before quickly morphing into a moment of delicate calm, Cai reflecting “its just the way of the world”. Its restless and jittery even when it moves into these quiet, hushed moments, like its trying to wriggle free from the grip of its own structure. This constant evolution is reminiscent of Unwound’s later recordings after they had calmed down a bit, but whilst those songs would stretch on five minutes or longer, Kagoule seem to try and cram just as much into the length of a radio pop song.
The albums shortest moment, ‘Empty Mug’ is a brief piece of straightforward punk complete with power chords and shouty backing vocals, but fails to add anything to the records, a genre exercise that should have been left on the cutting room floor. Equally ‘Greenbeefo’ doesn’t wait around long enough for you to get used to it, but in contrast is feels more like a bite-sized piece of the album as a whole and moves so smoothly into the next track ‘Centralwing’ it has the feeling of an extended intro.
Lead singer Cai Burn’s vocals overall are middling at best, never particular imbued with any strong emotion while the rest of album rushes past his ears. ‘Glue’ tries to work around these shortcomings by adding angelic soprano backing vocals to create a more expansive sounding chorus, but come across as too self-conscious an attempt to construct something instantaneous and accessible
But in general nothing is straightforward on Urth, meaning your attention is never allowed to waver. ‘Damp Sand’ is skeletal with a rattling rhythm section and restrained, slinking guitars. ‘Made of Concrete’ is the only song where bassist Lucy Hatter takes on leading vocals, her light voice giving the song a more straightforward indie pop sound. Bubbling beneath however is a wall of feedback far back in the mix, like chaos surging underneath the song threatening to engulf it at any moment. ‘Open Mouth’ could be a classic piece of Gen X slacker rock if it wasn’t constantly trying to wrong foot itself with abrupt starts and stops, keeping both the listener and the band on their toes.
Choosing to end the album on the lo-fi acoustic song ‘Blue Sun’ is one of the only points where the album does anything approaching predictable, but it’s still a welcome moment of underdeveloped intimacy, done in what seems to be one take complete with bum notes and all. Those spindly post-hardcore guitar lines that are still present running through the album like a main artery.
Its a hyperactive record, unwilling to stay in one space for two long. Much like a shark, Kagoule seem convinced that if they aren’t constantly on the move they might die. It makes for an exhaustive listen considering its relatively economic length but its intricacies are sure to reveal more pleasures with each successive listen.
Louis Ormesher