Everybody has that one piece of furniture that never fits the décor; the coffee table with the gimpy leg that the ex left behind after getting caught having an affair with the UPS guy, or the lumpy misshapen vase made in freshman ceramics class, once a vessel for artistic dreams, now an inconspicuous place to hide the weed; items kept less for sentimental reasons and more out of a lazy inability to haul them to the curb. New York post-punkers Aficionado make music suited for smashing it all to splinters and shards in joyous aggression, dousing it with grain alcohol, and setting it ablaze.
When It Comes to Creation is energetic, spirited fun; not heavy per se, although it contains its fair share of righteous riffing, call and response vocals and thudding drums. Aficionado are one member short of forming a softball team, and it’s really notable for how effortlessly they communicate through five songs of blistering rock, and how many hooks they can pack into this short EP. Note the grand piano frills on the opening track, and the hyperactive flute fluttering on “The Myth About Real Life.” This is not your father’s hardcore, but it has indelible ties to the past, having been produced by former Gorilla Biscuits and Quicksand producer Don Fury, whose fingerprints are all over this release.
The dual-gendered vocal attack from Laura Carozza and Nick Warchol works splendidly, especially on “Naysayers,” popping with triple guitar soloing and a booming brass fanfare that manages to ratchet up the song from crisp canter to gallop. It’s this strong sense of dynamics that give the band its bulging biceps, as though channeling the myriad pulsing energies of the Big Apple. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for creation/ the difference here is that there is no difference here,” he sings on the album’s title track, slyly calling out his indebtedness to post-punk progenitors, but with a keen eye on moving forward and maintaining a progressive sound.
That their debut is on No Sleep Records is appropriate, since this is as narcotic as adding Listerine to the lemonade. “I swear dissolution is all too simple,” sings Warchol on “Do Nothing, Be Nothing,” the octet’s bristling anti-nihilistic credo. Intricately played yet more than accessible, When It Comes to Creation looks you right in the eyes, plants a steamy kiss, and readies its backhand for another blow.
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