Nostrom is the glitchy new project from the man ordinarily associated with work under his mainstay moniker, Worgor. Sonically, this first release by Nostrom has veered rather far away from his usual line, but still retains some of the deadpan atmospheres associated with his usual work. -2437333 builds upon these consistently bleak atmospheres, and funnels them into his depiction of a cold and brutalist worldview, though using different elements to do so. Gone are the droning guitar and blunt power electronics, opting instead for beat, bass, and the introduction of some vocals.
First track off the release, Hope Dies, is the natural continuation from the indecipherable array of numbers that signify the release’s title. From faint beginnings, the piece moves through ideas, searching for formation, only to be shunned for continued steps forward. This refusal to outstay its welcome, or to be fully realised, isn’t unlike Controlled Death’s Journey Through a Dead Body’s similar tendency to perpetually jump from near complete ideas. Loosely guided in and out by snippets of heavily processed vocals, the track’s minimalism and movements operate as a primer for both the release, and indeed the project.
Taking a percussive leap forward, 0x03 is a highlight on this release. Exploiting stereophonic sound to full effect, the echoed, tribal rhythm attacks from all angles to dizzying effect. Alongside the manipulated Middle Eastern tones, it’s difficult not to suspect influence from the immersive Afro beat experiments of Cut Hands.
Tracks 3 and 4 enter a new phase; a trip-hop like segment where track titles, vvv and yrrsh, almost spell the music’s sounds. Being slightly easier to place, these tracks lead the way into The Abyss. This closing track is more up-beat, a short-winded number that indulges in a form of industrial techno which wouldn’t be out of place when expanded and inserted into a club scenario (whenever that may be).
On the whole, Nostrom‘s first release is very minimal, and the references given are more thematically, rather than sonically, relevant. It’s evident that the mind behind Worgor has failed to contain these explorative exercises through genre, leaving the sparse and ominous -2437333 as the fruit of such labour.
Check this release out at the Bandcamp link above.