Dead Sea Apes

Manchester’s Dead Sea apes ignite their latest album with the spirit of dub crossed post-punk, a move that finds them winding down darkened alleys fraught with trembling tension. For the most part they’ve left the droned desert of last year’s Soy Dios behind them, doubling down on their experimental vision of instrumental psych with supple ease. The record takes on a cinematic quality, though thankfully eschewing the current trend of Goblin-esque horror tropes for a more Morricone-meets-Metal-Box vision of stark paranoia. The record can scarcely be parsed into individual tracks, one flowing seamlessly into another and played out in a storyboarded splay, pulsing with anxiety flung into dub plate dizziness.

The band’s always had a high level of musicianship, but in the past they’ve focused their efforts into guitar based visions of psychedelia. Here they put bass front and center crushing the listener with the insistent creep of leaded boots and the feeling of your heart pounding in your ears. When it does rear it’s head though, the guitar bites down with jagged glass teeth as it weaves through the mix metallic and snaking, looking for prey with every movement. It seems that each band is absorbing our current political climate with it’s own bent and Dead Sea Apes have chosen to embody and amplify the dystopian concrete sprawl for all it’s worth.




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