The blood-quickening tumult of much-discussed Manchester-based, abstract-punk five-piece, Martial Arts’ eyeball-to-eyeball live outings are compressed into the band’s first, wailing-siren call release - Warsaw – OUT NOW. Packing angst and art into precision-cut convergences of razored riffs and fleeting oceanic harmonies, the band’s burning intent pours and pools in vast, melodic space then rattles in close, claustrophobic corners.
Melancholic modern prose torn from Fontaines DC’s copybook, the studied erraticism of Shame and the confessional lines of US poets, such as Frank O’Hara are pinned as eye-level catalysts as Martial Arts’ first, four-minute ransom note drops into listeners’ inboxes. Influences, however, have become a diminished, if not irrelevant talking point as they focus their ire, angst and ambition on the petrol-fire intensity of their transcendental, unrecorded performances.
Inside upstairs rooms and darkened, low-ceiling boxes, the band – of disparate UK-wide origins, yet fixed for now in the transient, twenty-something suburbs of their adopted city – have affected a fierce chorus of rumour and reputation. Concentrating every calorie and straining every tendon in the live experience way ahead of the studio, the band states that “we focus on getting people involved, make people feel like they’re partaking not spectating. It should be all about getting people more invested in the moment.” |
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