John Foxx and the Maths - Howl - LP/CD/Various editions
Previous albums from John Foxx and Benge have yielded a heady blend of brutalist beats, electronics firmly rooted in the analogue as well as digital and some widescreen filmic melodies that recalled his Metamatic period and more recent Louis Gordon collabs.
For studio-album number six, the pair continue to retain their love of retro machinery and mysterious lyrical romanticism, as well as an ear for an epic tune layered so thick you could keep a few of today's precocious pop pretenders at bay by hitting them with it. And not content with formulating what could be considered their best album since 2011's inaugral Interplay, they've additionally enlisted the talents of former Ultravox guitarist Robin Simon.
On the strength of some of the tectonic riffs on Howl and Tarzan and Jane Regained for example, to merely summarise Simon as a 'guitarist' seems churlish. He doesn't so much accompany Foxx and Benge's already complex arrangements as slash his way through them, using his guitar like some sonic scimitar. The resultant resounding racket doesn't interfere with the overall experience however - Simon's approach is to destruct in order to construct and reform. During recording, it's been noted by all concerned that when Robin Simon 'opened up', there was a unified sense of awe and a few single takes. If you can appreciate John Cale's merciless handling of the violin, set to a background not unlike the late great Nash the Slash or the equally edgy Tuxedomoon, you're someway towards appreciating where Simon's vicious squall is coming from. A jet engine, for example.
Of course, where there is harsh brutality, there needs to be a balance of beauty and long-term live member Hannah Peel provides exactly that with her 'violent violins' and (I love this) 'San Andreas electrostatic aftermath', the perfect foil to her bandmates' insistent and terrifying musical dystopia.
For 'light relief', head to closer Strange Beauty or perhaps the album's most poignant commentary on this decade's bizarrest events, Everything Is Happening At The Same Time for two of this pair's finest commissions to tape. The latter is woozy and hypnotic with Foxx fleshing out lines like "We're burning the trees, we're burning the seas..." and "Scenes on the news... things I can hardly believe, things I wish I'd never seen...", an ethos and a poetry anyone with an ounce of compassion and nous can identify with.
An album of atmospheric contrasts, Howl is as visceral and frightening and tender and forgiving as anything Foxx has released in his 45 years in music.
8/10