I’ve previously penned the odd word or two about Mental Powers, and at the time of researching and composing the article on the band for Issue 28, they were slowly emerging into the light from the sessions that became Homoh. All of my communications with Mental Powers at the time were imbued with a sense of this release; as if the band were buoyed up with the creative possibilities and inspiration that these sessions emanated. A few months passed, and Homoh appeared in a vinyl edition of 150 – the promises of previous releases and the odd incendiary live outing has been surpassed by this succinct, yet somehow wandering release. Either a maximalist EP or a svelte album, the four tracks contained on Homoh summon up the freewheeling jazz-inflected post-everything rock of Volcano the Bear, Sunburned Hand of The Man and certain facets of the Breakdance the Dawn label, whilst nodding irreverently towards forefathers such as Pere Ubu, Chrome and This Heat.
“Bodywash” jumps into a shower of shaken and plonked percussion, as ecstatic woodwinds, wordless vocalising and a swelling Casiotone slowly solidifies. It’s like an alternative soundtrack to Antonioni’s Zabriskie Point, scored by Royal Trux and Ornette Coleman, rather than Pink Floyd and Musica Elettronica Viva. “Mossman” gets me every time - out of the last drips of “Bodywash” the somewhat tentative, woody percussion taps into a limestone grotto inhabited by folk with furry feet and malfunctioning metronomes for hearts. Woozy organs chirrup and splutter into a slow-motion soporific chordscape. The creaky ululations of vocalist Deni could be an ode to the Green Man, or the most affluent postcode in Sydney, or to God knows what? On “Mossman” Mental Powers manage to corral more feeling and soul into eight minutes than can be found in a whole series of Dancing With the Stars.
Side Two kicks off with “Hamneck” a noun, one would assume. Possibly used to describe an engineering student, who initially appears one-dimensional. Yet upon closer inspection, a multi-faceted personality and well-developed musical tastes emerges from your preconceived ideas. “Hamneck” is the most upbeat and muscular track on Homoh, with metallic percussion and curiously munted music-box sounds employed to great effect. Like a low-budget Jono El Grande covering Pere Ubu, the counterpoint between the cracked Casio and polyrhythmic drums gives the track a woozy stop/start feel. If “Hamneck” is an engineering student, “Boogaknee” must be a drunken uncle, with a lightshade on his head, at your cousin’s bar mitzvah. Malfunctioning fire alarms and off beat, frenetic, double snare drums introduce a sloppy guitar lurching from pillar to post. Suddenly, Uncle sobers up and engages in a mad Cossack dance whilst the band intones like (reverbed) choirboys turned bad. Ranting misanthropic belligerence and a cavalcade of percussion bring proceedings to a logical conclusion.
You can snaffle a vinyl copy of Homoh, complete with download code, from Badminton Bandit.
Oliver Laing
