Zabus’ Automatic Writhing Isn’t to be Taken Lightly

By Deuce
Eldritch may be the most apt descriptor for Zabus’ Automatic Writhing, a 12-track affair of an album, if ever there was one. Indeed, it may be the only thing known about this symphony of songs that otherwise seemingly defies description itself.
Imagine a style of singing in which there’s no melody. Or a cacophony of sound that fails to become distinguishable as individual instruments. Song structure flown out the window, if ever it was in the building, that is. There’s also tempos changing in mid-tune, some serious reverb or some other type of effects on the drums, and an otherwise unique approach to composing, and performing, songs.
Creative? Now you’re talking. Artistic? Certainly. Easily accessible to a widespread audience predicated on smooth, pop listening designed for daytime play? Not on this kaleidoscope of cuts.
In fact, it’s that last point which may be the entire appeal of Writhing, and what the artists in this band appeared to be going for. They are, for the record, Jeremy Moore on vocals, Alex Zorn on guitar, Johnny Wielding on the drums, and Akane Shimizu on the strings and synthesizer.
Moore’s style on the mic is like that of a Jim Morrison after he was well wet. In a way it sounds like he’s simply talking and elongating the phrasing. His voice is almost inordinately deep in parts, and it adds to the overall feeling of inebriation one is liable to get while taking these tunes to the face back to back.
If we were to hone in on a track like Phantom Lens, for example, you’d see just what we mean. This is a moving piece, particularly the tempo, although the drums are off kilter for the last half of the drum pattern (inducing the feeling of being besotted, again). The tempo of the bass seems to outstrip that of the drums, which isn’t altogether a bad thing.
But you’ve got sounds screaming at the listener. The effects on the vocals are something serious and, try as you might, it’s hard to tell where the verses end and the hooks begin…if they even do.
Multiply this sense of the unexpected by 12 and voila, you’ve got the album in a nutshell. It’s a challenge to listen to, and well worth the effort.
