Standing at 7 feet tall and in possession of a burly handle-bar moustache thick enough to steer with, you wouldn’t be surprised to see NANCY hanging out with Josh Homme, smashing out drunken riffs in the Mojave Desert.
Well, never judge a book by its cover, because NANCY’s music is deceptively light to the touch; a floating broad circus of sounds grounded by its sincere exploration of mental health.
Across a confessional, morphic and deliriously fun 10-track mini-album, NANCY melds together post-club fervor, frantic Misfits-like bursts of energy and Modest Mouse at their most morose to create a hallucinogenic, unstable and addictive sound.
The Seven Foot Tall Post-Suicidal Feel Good Blues’ titular opening track sets the tempo. A chugging foot-stomper that exudes a rich Black Keys groove, neatly resembling the harmonies of MGMT’s “Time to Pretend”, with an added slice of ceremonial marching band.
“Pleasure Pen” immediately shifts gears. A dynamic, electronic-tinged trip that has the deep sonic depressions that made Iggy Pop’s “Nightclubbing” so intoxicating. The track’s 5 minutes are soaked in a washed-out beat, with NANCY’s distorted vocals rubbing against it like a washboard trying to scrub it dry.
NANCY has described his mini-album as “bi-polar” and this is no more apparent than when the whistling light-hearted swagger of “Leave Your Cares Behind” slides into “Never Gonna Wake (Up)”, one of the record’s generous dollops of uproarious punk energy.
It lasts little more than a minute, but its hip-swinging, jubilant aura is utterly contagious, with NANCY’s diverse vocals channeling Glenn Danzig’s baritone for added effect.
The mini-album bows out with the closing procession of “Deathmarch”, a dreary organ-led track that has NANCY sermonising “you’ll get your turn / in the eternal void”. It’s a grand closing to a grand statement, capping off a delightful, free-form record that is a kaleidoscopic taste of what NANCY has to offer. Barmy, brilliant fun.