This being Not-For-Resale, one of my favourite unsigned nights in Brighton, which I often go along to knowingly unprepared; I had absolutely no concept of Kontaktes music before seeing them.
This can be a good thing; sometimes a hastily recorded demo can skew the perception of a melody-seeking man such as me…
So, what was my naïve but intrepid mind greeted with?
Answer: A monolithic, noise-berg, occasionally melting to create bubbling little streams of gentle introspection. The metaphor is appalling, but the playing was much better; somewhere between Sigur-Ros and Johnny Greenwood’s less sane moments; transmitted by pylons.
There are no words, and no need for them, the sentiment is communicated through a form of subjective, musical vernacular. Lyrics would be unnecessary, ham-fisted and rude.
Being critical, perhaps a tad more variation would be welcome, much of the playing involved the thrashing of heavily effected/delayed guitars, and there was a ‘pinch’ too much self-importance at times, for my personal tastes.
However, I’ve since reversed the normal interaction of listen>gig and discovered that the recorded Kontakte are quite a different proposition, where the subtleties are more marked, and the louder moments more subtle. All in all. Pretty damn good.

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