Swiss band Yog initially surfaced in 2000, only to have a turbulent time of it and disband in 2003. After a brief period of assessment the band reformed in 2004 with a brace of new influences including Pig Destroyer and Converge and we shold be mighty glad they did because ‘Half the sky’, the most recent fruit of their labours, is a stunning example of the hardcore/grind genres already drawing comparisons with such genre benchmarks as ‘Jane Doe’ and not unjustifiably.
Initially released in December 2011, ‘Half the sky’ is a sumptuous, mercifully brief outpouring of rage and unhinged brutality. Giving but the briefest of introductions, the first track, ‘needle in black’ opens with a riff not unlike Tool’s menacing progressive bent before a drum roll announces the sickest grind attack this side of ‘scum’. Punishing in the extreme it sets the tone for the album as a whole, beautifully played and executed grindcore intercut with elements of hardcore and a progressive touch that demonstrates a devilish proficiency as well as a desire to break down the barriers of their listeners’ sanity. ‘92%’ takes this approach and runs with it, a syncopated riff that requires a degree in advanced mathematics to fully appreciate, it’s overlaid with truly harrowing screams of sheer frustration and rage, and yet, just when it all seems impenetrable, a hint of melody sneaks through the haze giving you something to hang on to until the next barrage of aural abuse hits home lie a high explosive round. A minute and a half later and you’re into the rhythmic ‘solar nature’ with its spoken word intro and full throttle verse swinging at you before the band recover their discipline for an unusually restrained passage that lays bare their innate musical ability. At almost four minutes long, it is the case that the music is so unutterably intense that a four minute Yog track feels like fifteen minutes of anybody else’s music, and yet for music so furiously heavy there is real depth and complexity and multiple shades of light and dark meaning that it never descends into a furious mess, the band always maintaining coherency even while smashing your skull in. ‘Calculate the plan and escape’ is unfettered extremity, the screams and yelps needing to be heard to be believed while the band stamp out a riff in the second half so utterly insistent that it will jam in your head for days despite its outwardly forbidding appearance. The delightfully titled ‘fist fk on the way home’ is indeed the aural equivalent of that lovely prospect, it is a sonic violation that would make Agoraphobic Nosebleed proud – no mean feat.
After the previous track’s brief, sinuous assault ‘I scream a beginning’ is no less brutal, but here the music takes on a mechanistic characteristic, the drums engineered with tight precision and the riffs oiled and gleaming, flexing around them. It is a blinding attack, possibly the highlight of the album although it’s a close run thing, and one that will leave you gasping for breath as ‘plastic child’ comes loping out of the gate with a distinctly jazzy shuffle and acting as a segue to the gloriously hostile ‘ugly liars behind baby masks’ – a song which is actually as awesome as its title suggests with its massive, atonal riffs, multiple time signatures and lung-bursting screams. Having ground down to a sludge-laden crawl, ‘ugly liars…’ suddenly gives way to the tidal barrage of ‘Adam wanted to stay the only one’ – a brief and stunning track that still manages to pale in comparison to the short-lived explosion of anger that is ‘breaking the spell’. Now racing furiously toward the conclusion, ‘stones’ has a brilliantly snaky riff that coils around the metallic skeleton of the rhythm section that eventually collapses in upon itself as everything slows down to a doom crawl and finally dissolves into the concluding ‘we need your opinion (just in order to ignore it)’ – a suitably schizophrenic trawl through multiple tempos and riffs that will leave you stunned at its ferocity and ambition.
There is a moment at the start of Pantera’s ‘mouth for a war’ video where you are confronted with strobing images of the band, filmed in black and white, overlaid with titles such as ‘strength’, ‘revenge’ and ‘wrong’ and the whole Nietzschean might of the imagery becomes overwhelming – that is the mental image that existed in my head alongside much of the aural carnage that Yog unleash over the course of this brief (a ‘reign in blood’ trumping 28:20), furious album. It is no doubt needless to say (although I’ll say it anyway) that this is an album for which extremity is a byword. Those seeking something that you can just play in the background and forget need not apply – this is a record that gets up close and personal and screams in your face until it’s done and will absolutely not be ignored. Intense, intelligent and impeccably performed, if precise, technical grind is your thing then Yog will have you ecstatic – don’t miss out!
