by Torrey Proto
Brooklyn's Docents are a multifaceted beast of a unit. The quartet's freewheeling approach to noise evokes controlled chaos and multiple shades of dread and decay. The way their music sways from one extreme to another creates a delirious seasick effect that is truly intoxicating. Their latest EP Shadowboxing sees them refining those traits into a stew of complex emotions, sometimes swaying, sometimes lurching, and other times stabbing straight ahead. Though brief in runtime, the EP's impact is immense.
For all the paranoia and nightmare fuel that lurks behind every sharp turn, there's a playful camaraderie between Docents’ four members that underpins their high wire act of tension and release. It feels like the four players are bouncing ideas off each other in real time. The thunderous rhythm section of bassist Kabir Kumar-Hardy and drummer Matthew Heaton provide a rock-steady anchor for vocalist-guitarists Will Scott and Noah Sider to wander down dank tunnels and winding paths.
The opening salvo of "Garden" finds Will Scott delivering a hushed, unnerving vocal that contrasts the track's razor-sharp, dissonant darting guitar lines. His lyricism straddles the line between cryptic and direct, as he calmly warns of a bleak future where "the land will pass judgment / its body keeps the score." He paints a vivid and ugly picure with distinct imagery, possibly referencing environmental cotastrophe and wastage with lines like "Wrestle corpses / fruitlessly / waste away / the holiday / a feast today / the glutton."
On the title track, Sider howls and chants like a siren's call while his bandmates raise even more hell behind him. With pointed rhythmic trickery, Sider chants vividly grotesque lines like "the acid night / drips neon / illuminating the walls / where people work and hide within." On "Double Fantasy," Heaton's woozy, stumbling intro rhythm would make Unwound's legendary Sara Lund proud, before it erupts into pure chaos and locking in once more.
The final two tracks "Shouldn't We" and "Workout" double down on the whirlwind created by the preceding cuts in about half the time. The latter song closes the EP with an unrelenting vocal sermon delivered by Scott that sounds downright apocalyptic. His frantic howling feels like a warning of something urgent and perhaps inescapable. It might not be immediately clear what he's referencing when he asks "what if it's perfect? Or what if it never was?" but the anxiety and doubt in his voice is palpable, leaving the listener to fill in the blanks for themselves.
Whether they're pummeling you with hardcore-leaning riffage or coming at you sideways with unnerving spoken word theatrics and creaking soundscapes, Docents know how to leave a mark. This short EP hints at a wealth of ideas that leave a delicious but bittersweet taste in your mouth. If you're low on iron, the four piece have scraped enough of the industrial underbelly of their city to fix you right up.