MOHIT - Preface Review
if this is just the preface of MOHIT’s unique, innumerable layers, I’m definitely very intrigued to read on.
East London trio MOHIT’s debut album Preface is an intriguing collection of nine songs. But, as with most art-rock albums, this will push listeners to some extremes of obsession or revulsion. The influences here range from prog and psych to more experimental pop and jazz. There are moments of indie pop, some surf guitar, and all the composition and theatricality of classical. Of course, this comes at a time when a wave of experimental and weirder bands like Omni and Snapped Ankles are leading a charge of fun, silly, and unusual sounds. Preface leans a lot more into the serious, atmospheric, and initially harder to engage with but there are wonderful ideas and triumphant sounds peppered throughout.
The album’s opener ‘Racek’, also its debut release, acts as a statement of intent: a progressive jaunt with twanging guitar and aching vocal harmonies layered atop crashing drums. The B-side from the debut single, ‘Discover Another’, also makes it onto the album, added quite late in the recording process. Originally written in a bedroom and half-forgotten before resurrection for the album sessions, this is one of the more high-octane numbers and benefits from its relative simplicity. ‘(I Would Never Wash My Hair in That) Water’ takes unexpected paths, with a genuinely touching midsection of twittering birds and vocable euphony, so moving they feel like the only sound left in the song uplifting us to this ethereal floating feeling.
The record is produced by the award-winning Marta Salgoni, who also features in the stunning harmonies of ‘(I Would Never Wash My Hair in That) Water’. She’s an expert in the experimental, having worked with the sounds of Bjork, Alex Cameron and Liars in the past and she’s a perfect pairing for MOHIT. Another, but perhaps less influential, inspiration is Marky Mark, a man who invited himself to a jam session and one the band credit with assisting the early stages of ‘Reggaeezer’: a danceable experiment with melody which stands as an ode to the very same.
A preface usually acts as a short piece by an author discussing the inspirations and processes of their art. Preface was born from improvisation sessions over three years, which has granted space for maturation in the process. Preface is a result of a writing process which was its own inspiration. Perhaps this led to some moments which feel a little oversaturated or pointless, though. ‘Hiccups’ is a slower number flickered with ethereal whistles, which ultimately builds to nothing. This leaves it as an outro track which sounds more like an introduction to the edge of a cliff. ‘Ffion’, placed second in the album’s tracklist as a nod to it being the second song written in the sessions, has a “strange little instrumental tune” in the band’s words but this strange little tune just misses the mark, feeling a little dull and not all that strange. The long centrepiece ‘Steady Evil’ shows the band’s vulnerability with a piece about putting down the screen and venturing out into the night. Apparently, this includes teeth, tongue flicks, and heavy breathing as some experimental percussion. I’m not sure what these are supposed to add but the song, at over 7 minutes, progresses only into lethargy and leaves us a little cold. But I feel there’s a high likelihood this track will be lauded, as per the art-rock prerogative.
It’s well worth riding this out either way, as we head into the strongest couplet on the record, ‘Yoghurt’ & ‘Infinite Decay’. ‘Yoghurt’ was the first track written in the album sessions and is probably the best song, acting as a culmination of the many routes explored throughout the album. There are loops and beats reminiscent of hip-hop aplenty, accompanied by emotive “oohs'' and scraggy riffs. The song’s inventiveness progresses with wispy guitar, invasive cymbal and moments of real beauty during the quasi-crescendos. Single ‘Infinite Decay’ draws you in with a swaying shoegaze intro before a sharp diversion into an energetic frenzy. The song, written about a spiritual experience in the Summer of 2016, is a confusing but extremely satisfying hybrid of 90s shoegaze and 00s new rave while still sounding a world apart from either.
Preface sets out to evoke and fascinate and whilst some will be irritated by the challenges of MOHIT’s dramatic soundscapes, those who persevere will be rewarded with moments of beauty and some real inventiveness. I may not be obsessed or revulsed but if this is just the preface of MOHIT’s unique, innumerable layers, I’m definitely very intrigued to read on.