Aural Aggravation

Rocket Recordings – 6th October 2023

Christopher Nosnibor

Time was when I found a certain excitement and even a solace in a good dystopian novel. There’s always the question of nature vs nurture when it comes to the development of a child to adulthood, and my tendency to gravitate to the darker aspects is likely at odds with my incredibly mundane middle-class upbringing in the rural backwater of Lincolnshire. Or perhaps that was precisely its origin. What may present superficially as an idyll proves under scrutiny to be an inbred place with a smalltown mentality and has been a longstanding Tory stronghold. Being primarily agricultural, the county had the largest Polish population on account of the seasonal harvesting work. But the locals don’t like these foreigners coming over and stealing the jobs we won’t do, so… It’s probably best to start with the digression rather than veer off course later, and the purpose of the digression was to respond to the context of Teeth of the Sea’s latest effort, their sixth, and by their own claims, ‘most outlandish’ album.

To expand the detail of the context, it’s worth quoting from the accompanying blurbage rather than attempting to paraphrase it: ‘In Frank Herbert’s 1973 novel Hellstrom’s Hive, the Dune writer tells of a sinister narrative surrounding the maverick scientist Nils Hellstrom, who has created a meticulously constructed Hive underneath his Oregon farmhouse. Therein, he oversees a subterranean order of 50,000 insect-human hybrid life-forms. Ultimately his plan being for the inhabitants of the Hive to usurp humanity and take over the world. The decade thus far may not have seen anything quite so daunting, but it’s provided more than its fair share of challenges. Yet in such dystopian environments, Teeth Of The Sea flourish. This band has created a kaleidoscopic inner world all its own in Hive, their sixth and most outlandish album.

I spend the entirety of the first track, ‘Artemis’ being frustrated by my inability to place the origin of the nagging motif which is central to the tune, to the extent I stomp my feet and roar at the ceiling, neither of which helps. But things move on swiftly with the space-age stomp of ‘Get With the Program’, the vocals low in the mix beneath a conglomeration of a bubbling repetition and some gyrating dives, dominated by a sturdy four-four bass drum beat.

If ‘Butterfly House’ is overtly in the style of commercial dance circa 2005, it’s equally classic electro, reminiscent of Ladytron, but with frenzied fretwork dominating the midsection. Nevertheless, it’s dreamy, mellow – and quite the contrast from the quasi-industrial percussion-based attack of ‘Liminal Kin’.

No-one could accuse Teath of the Sea being predictable or derivate here, and the diversity of Hive spans post-rock ambience and progressive rock, and the nine-and-a-bit minute behemoth ‘Megaframa’ goes full Chris ‘n’ Cosey electro-driven dance. It’s beaty, it’s groovy, but it’s got weirdness woven through its fabric.

The final two tracks, ‘Powerhorse’ and ‘Apollo’ are both mellow, but once again couldn’t be more different, with the former bringing an ambient drift before the later fades into the sunset with melancholic picked guitar and unexpected but emotive trumpet. On paper, this probably bears the making of an incoherent mess, but nothing could be further from the truth: the contrasts are complimentary, and there’s a flow which brings the album together. It’s not mere crafting or composition, but a work of sonic alchemy.

AA