This eleven-minute, ten-track album is both brave and ridiculous — something you’d expect to fall straight on its face, but YHWH Nailgun’s wantonly awkward ways needle a strong defence against this ever happening.
This four piece incendiary device of Zack Borzone (vocals), Saguiv Rosenstock (guitar), Jack Tobias (synth and electronics) and Sam Pickard (drums) is abrasive and challenging in all the best ways. Like club-footed seers, their mis-shapened wares glued together by a grumbled disdain. Lyrics that come across like a weirded-out vision quest, digging up that self-same excitement I felt when I first discovered The Wolfgang Press in the late eighties.
An urgent heritage full of primal tangles and anxious eruption. That animal-like insistence of “Stillness Blues” a psychotic blowhole that I would have loved to hear seep into a lengthy Skullflower-like exodus. I really admire the brevity of these tracks, always leaving you wanting more (a taste that doesn’t wither beyond the vine).
A raucous revelry that burns solidly throughout, pokes the post-punk corpse, churns wildly industrial, sounds that hold well to that roughly-hued head of the cover that scars darkly primitive. Magazine really feels like a brooding wound of discontent that’s still wide open, demanding to be prodded.
Bravo YHWH Nailgun — Magazine is an eleven-minute concentrate that packs aplenty.-Michael Rodham-Heaps-
