No Joy
Creep
Reviewed by: Ziggy Merritt
Within the onslaught of shoegaze revivalists that have been popping up since the early 2000s, the duo behind No Joy, Jasamine White-Gluz and Laura Lloyd, have continually reinvented themselves through a sometimes visceral punk aesthetic in order to claim a spot of earned distinction among their peers. Following along in a series of EPs that began with 2016’s Drool Sucker is their latest, Creep. Creep features a more eclectic palate of sound that marks a departure from the hollowed-out haze that principal songwriter White-Gluz has become familiar with. Her elements of dream pop and industrial clash, each providing an aura of experimentation that is not always well-received.
This comes to a wholly brutal head in the third track, “Tearing Apart the Dark.” Intersected by slow-paced ethereal wave segments, much of the song’s construction relies upon this frenetic industrial metal to bridge the gaps. Too many tonal and tempo shifts bog down the structure in order to appreciate much of what it has to offer.
“Fluorescent Dread”, which closes out the EP, is an equally baffling u-turn from their typical sonic repertoire, but unlike its predecessor, it manages to at least offer up some charm. Resembling something that might be heard in the soundtrack for a side-scrolling, beat-em-up game from the ’90s, this neon-tinged epic offers up an overabundance of synthwave that, purely by the idiosyncratic tendencies of this release, manages to not fall out of cohesion with the rest of the EP.
Of what’s left, both “Califone” and “Hellhole” bridge the gap between their former sound and the one adopted here. Lush and layered bass and guitar fills out the atmospherics that showcase White-Gluz’s vocals. Previous releases have her clouded behind those very atmospherics through her own volition, yet “Califone” in particular allows the dense layering of guitar and bass to fade in order for her to shine through. It’s a welcome growth from their 2015 album, More Faithful, where this new direction had its origins. Yet unlike that album, Creep doesn’t find much of a figurative voice as too many disparate elements vie for attention.
Rating: Semi-Obnoxious
