Mordant first became known during the mid 00's as the duo of Baron Mordant and Admiral Greyscale. Following the release of the Dead Air album in 2006 with it's images of mold and decay, interjections and reminisces from 1970's Thames TV continuity announcer Philip Elsmore, library music references and magpie logo. They were quickly included with the nascent hauntological scene, along with The Caretaker, Position Normal and all of the Ghost Box roster.
In fact this was completely understandable, and it wasn't until this album and some of the preceding dubstep influenced tracks that Mordant stood apart from the others as something more than the same references to sinister 70's TV with melodious melancholy electronica. Mordant's grey and beige world and the songs of SyMptoMs described an infected, damp England that is perhaps not as far from the grimmer aspects of the 70's as we would believe. SyMptoMs was Baron Mordant alone, containing more lyrics than most other hauntology, and emitting a mundane but twisted black humor close to the Chris Morris of Brasseye, but mostly like his series Jam.
The album starts with Where can you scream?, the tale of a town, brilliantly accompanied by 1980's new build Halifax advertising on the Misinformation DVD, but unfortunately unavailable on you tube. Puts into sound the crushing dead end world of a south eastern suburb, making Morrissey's Everyday is like Sunday's description of a crappy seaside town seem impossibly glamorous, as trudges over wet sand are replaced by lonely, backbreaking stints on a slow computer, 'chomping at the bit (rate)'. Background drone and test tones do little to enliven.
Baron creates his own syntax to extenuate his Mordant world, Al la Clockwork Orange, and at his most up-full can come off a bit Happy Mondays or Aphex Twin, but is always dragged down to a World of Twist, Earl Brutus of Fall like reality.
You are a door, is an album highlight. A kind of lament for those molested by Jimmy Saville, 'fellating stamps, a sea of small change in your hand, reticulate'. It threatens a euphoric rave style major chord release, only to retract into a ring modulated keyboard preset, reticulate indeed.
The songs are interspersed with well titled instrumental shorts such as, Pissing in sinks, In truth is wine, 0 Comments (the theme of this blog site), Hey Volte-face, Another uncompleted dome, seeing death thru Eric Gates and Terms & conditions. Each instrumental alternating between compressed horror and blissout kosmiche drone but all smelling of broken biscuits.
Belgian Blues, somewhere between a lament for Ardkore rave, and a kinship with another beige landmark, shares an affinity with The Cure's Pornography, that's the level of despondency we're talking.
The title track itself is undecided whether to reach for the good stuff, or if you're derelict inside and your brain is park and ride, reach for the bad stuff. Mordant clearly no stranger to the chemical temptations and their serotonin depleted aftermaths. Music like a low rent drum and bass tapped out on a grubby synth by one of Reeves and Mortimers more mentally challenged creations.
MMmmm
