by Matty McPherson (@ghostplanetmatt)
Sprechgesang is a talky style of (rather vogue) vocals that often seems regionally tied to Britain and their large sum of music lumped under the "post-punk” moniker even though it's anything but exclusive. There's not a distinct bar to entry to this style; it's defined by a manner of delivery that offers an open (often deadpan) template for anyone to situate themselves within. Outside of Britain and the western world writ large, its quite likely that these types of acts have gone underreported and undocumented. Fortunately, Wharf Cat and bié Records are scouting out sprechgesangery from another continents and regions. At the end of April, they licensed from China and brought the Beijing duo, Naja Naja, into the fold, releasing their self-titled 12" EP of six tracks.
In the year 2022, (what constitutes the genre/term) post-punk couldn't be farther from being about album level statements. More than ever, it is about the singles, chaining together enough goodwill to stay abuzz. EPs themselves are still a mighty fine testing ground for proof-of-concepts, which for 24 minutes, Naja Naja unfurl quite a framework. Their prowess often centers around marrying grooves, from minimal wave to motorik to the classic spartan. It may not be immediately apparent what they are playing for on opener “New Toy”. That track drops a no-frills approach without any warning: cymbals n' a kick drum, a nervy bass with a regard for Colossal Youth, and minor spacey synth sound. "Now watch this, a brand new toy; new revolution with cutting edge fashion" Yuhao relays, deadpan and dead-eyed; its restraint all artifice? It's the track's final third where guitar fuzz cuts through the spartan sound, suggesting a level of playfulness that's at war with that artifice.
Guo Guo picks up the mic for “Dong Dong” matching her twee-esque delivery to the minimal wave beats like it's a sickly fairytale. Sly and subtle work from the duo, a proper backbone of how they can approach verse-chorus-verse-chorus punk work without any major left-turns. When she returns for the followup, “Running Dog,” not much has changed; their sound, more coldwave, features small cavernous drums. Ultimately, it chews on the scenery without causing much of a fuss. “Sunset Sopping Center,” the lone instrumental, would be likewise, except its droning buzz and insistent kick drum mark it for a groovy piece of homespun lo-fi, not too removed from the sect of Stereolab-core popping up in the States. As Side B opener, it hints at a greater level of musicality that the side will follow through on.
“Copy of You” and “Tunnel” are saved for last, amounting to the strongest third of this release by literally finessing the previous two thirds. “Copy of You”'s motorik buzz combined with their spartan sound itself imparts a suggestive dancey trance state. Yuhao's emphasis on copies of people and fear of dialogue are merely suggested as the song quickly becomes focused on beefing this instrumental up in its back third, with cymbals and gritty guitar lines closing in. “Tunnel” opens like its “blue skies and clear,” with their cleanest execution of the spartan sound underlying Yuhao's eye-winking directions and directives. It's a completely realized delivery and execution of the sprechgesang, tonally routinized and overly considerate to a degree you have to stop and ponder. At least for the last month, I've still been pondering these six tracks, counting the days until Naja Naja truly makes their mark when an LP reveals itself.