Mouthus The Long Salt

Calling The Long Salt prime Mouthus is like saying water is wet, since the lone essence Mouthus have adhered to throughout their rapid and varied progression over the past two years is one of pure, pummelling primal force. On this, their fourth full-length, Brooklyn duo’s piercing free rock dronescapes root even further down into the sediment layers of petrified sub-sound existing beneath some of the most adventurous (and destructive) musical ideas rock has yet crumbled off its block. Brian Sullivan and Nate Nelson drone out, resonate and rhythmically carry their densely heavy sounds like two Shamans trudging along, forced to withstand the blistering elements. With scrap heap percussion, highly processed guitar and bass sounds, the occasional distorted drum machine ass-kick and almost formless, moaning vocals (some of them intoned by folk/noise busybody Samara Lubelski) Mouthus lay waste borders of modern imagination right beside the very best of avant-rock’s gathering army of forward-marching soldiers — veritable warhorses like Sightings, Wolf Eyes and Magik Markers. At this point Mouthus are unstoppable innovators, ploughing their way through the freest realms of rock — worship them, as they pay worship to that which is indefinable, and create indefinable music in the process. You might feel that much more holy if you do. (Important)