by Devin Birse (@devvvvi.b)
In the age of endless hype cycles and hot-as-shit new bands with at least three different string instruments, Moin feels more distinct than ever. Even at their inception, they were a unique proposition, the two guys behind the exquisite dark ambient project RAIME but now on guitars and bass with drummer par excellence Valentina Magaletti in the mix to help them crank out hypnotic post-hardcore grooves. It was a sound unlike anything else being blasted out of the capital, remarkably direct and unpretentious in its approach to rock music yet brilliant in how it exposed the raw potential still lurking within the medium. Now three years after their proper debut LP their sound seems to have predicted an undercurrent of deconstructionist rock and pop acts such as Still Houseplants and Astrid Sonne. However, these acts don’t appear copycats; rather, they are cut from the same cloth, approaching their influences with a similar surgical precision but never trying to replicate Moin’s raw chemistry.
All this gushing of Moin's importance would mean nothing if the band weren’t such an ever-evolving entity. With each release, they've reconstructed the supposed boundaries of the rock power trio format yet their latest marks a new phase for the band. You Never End is not merely the most complex work Moin’s released, but their coldest and most emotive. Where previous works played more with noisy abrasion Moin now embraces the rhythms of dub and the guitar croons of shoegaze to create their most atmospheric work since their RAIME days. Of course, just as in RAIME, Moin shows that atmospheric does not necessarily mean chill, while these tracks aren't as noisy as previous releases they carry the band's now signature undercurrent of discomfort.
That discomfort is communicated via the taught sense of dynamics and movement that the band inherited from their electronic background, the soundscapes bridging the gap between the groove-laden hardcore of Dischord Records with England's rich history of dance music. The repetitive riffs collide with Magaletti's ever-intense drum work to create an album of perplexing rhythmic complexities. You Never End is the most Magaletti lead of their albums so far. On “C’mon Dive” she engulfs the listener in an ever-building drum pattern that becomes more layered with each repetition, like the rhythmic equivalent of a Godspeed crescendo. It's immediately followed by “Anything but Sopo” which yet again sees Magaletti at the center only this time driving the track relentlessly forward with a motorik precision mixed in with brilliant polyrhythms to create some of the most engaging grooves the bands ever produced.
Yet the most significant difference on You Never End compared to previous Moin albums is not the increased focus on Magaletti but the use of vocal collaborators on five tracks. In the past Moin's choice to use pre-recorded vocal snippets acted as an analogy for the vocal samples and MCs of dance music, it also meant that the snippets functioned more as a compliment to the tracks than their center piece. Now with vocal collaborators, the voice has been pushed to the front of the mix and Moin's tracks appear assembled around them. This chemistry between the guests and Moin results in some of the most interesting explorations of their career. On some tracks this leads to some remarkably straightforward songwriting for Moin such as “Guess It’s Wrecked,” which pairs the bleak sprechgesang of Olan Monk with an emotive garage punk stomp and cathartic chorus. Elsewhere they allow the band to go more subtle with their sounds like on “Family Way” where the band's relaxed mix of slow-moving shoegaze guitar and dubby bass adds an underpinning menace to Sophia Al-Maria’s spoken word monologuing.
It's the diversity of voices chosen as well that lends this record its strength. On “What if You Didn’t Need a Reason” an already good Slint–ensured instrumental is pushed towards brilliance by the booming haunting vocals of James K. Yet that appears in sharp contrast to the Midwest-emo indebted jangles of “We Know What Gives” which is pushed into off-kilter melancholy by the dirgey flows of Coby Sey. The vocals across the album touch on the melancholia of modernity with a raw immediacy that grants them a stronger connection to the listener than the previous use of sampling ever did. With that connection, Moin’s soundscapes are slowed to be more explorative and intriguing than ever before. The track that highlights this the best is the excellent “Lift You” which features the only recurring vocalist on the album, artist Sophia Al-Maria.
Even compared to Al-Maria's previous track it feels distinct within the album, it's remarkably stripped back in its focus on a clear gorgeous riff and solid rhythm to allow Maria’s vocals to shine. And they really do shine in above all else their crystal clear natural humanity, the track is rendered effecting by how its raw simplicity sheds Moin’s mechanical grooves in favor of playing backing to Maria’s poetic mantras. The track's opening of Maria stating “I just wanna say I really appreciate this because no one ever asks me to use my voice for a track” underpins the core shift at the heart of You Never End, a slight movement away from the electronic inflicted precision of what Moin has been to something new. Deconstructionist, unpretentious, taught, and rhythmically complex but distinctly heart on the sleeve in its emotions.
All these changes result in what may be Moin’s best work yet. An inventive yet often icey piece of art that cuts deep into the psyche. It's not as noisy as previous works but it's hard not to find something unsettling in the off-kilter acoustics of “Just Married” or the spine-rattling drums of “Cubby”. It's also the band's most human and connecting work yet. As a group, they've consistently collaborated brilliantly with one another so it's no surprise how well they pair with vocal collaborators, but even still the combination is magical. The result is a record that fully cements Moin as one of the great rock bands of our time, ever inventive and brilliant yet never at the cost of their direct and emotive nature.