Not Many Experts

The title of Bristol-based Casimir’s debut EP Not Mathematics seems like a direct mission statement, as these five introductory tracks are governed by a taste for exploration that guides them away from the pitfalls of becoming just what modern music does not need – another typecast Foals-indebted group of introverts flopping their fringes about the edges of dysfunctional indie music.

That Casimir certainly are not, as Not Mathematics has a much stronger sense of its own identity, a fact evidenced from the teasing 120 seconds of false-start ‘Balancing Act’, to the unabashed scale of that chorus that leaps out of ‘Lucid’ with a confidence in their obvious appeal that most new bands just don’t have. It just sounds like Casimir are already not a band afraid to explore their ideas, whether that be the intricacies of a breakdown that threatens to end the time-space continuum, or just the beautiful simplicity of a heart-arresting chorus.

‘Broken Minds Think Alike’ is the best suggestion of this fact, as it introduces itself with a section of minimalist left-field production that could have just stepped off the set of the recent Atoms For Peace record; what’s most surprising is that Casimir already aren’t leagues away when it comes to nailing down affecting and paranoid wonderings.

Essentially, Casimir are holding our attention simply because for such a new band, they’re already so ambitiously exploring the synthetic and the physical within the framework of their own distinct identity, and doing it without trying to be too clever at all. Like they say themselves, it’s not mathematics.

Not Mathematics is out on Monday 4th March on Fear of Fiction.

Bristol is a city that grabs you by the neck and forces bass culture down you, whether you want it to or not; it must be one of the only cities in the world where timid freshers are inducted by a heady mix of Julio Bashmore and Mosca. It’s fortunate, then, that the city is so adept at popping out genuinely interesting new producers, otherwise the initiation would be far less bearable. The latest in a long line of these talents is Artifact, whose Worn EP was dropped at the start of this week. “Drain” is the perfect introduction to the EP, all hazy synths and misplaced vocals until everything is drawn together into a propulsive house-tinged giant of a submersive floor-filler. Stream the entire EP here.

Why is melancholy so appealing? It’s pretty obscene to take so much pleasure from somebody’s misfortune, but we must all be awful human beings because it’s just so bloody satisfying to hear even more unfortunate souls spill their tragic lives all over moody atmospherics. This is where the music of Australian band Lowlakes comes in; over their recent debut EP they evoke the malevolent hum of Joy Division, the poignancy of The National, and even the precise eccentricity of Wild Beasts. They’re pretty tough comparisons to come anywhere close to satisfying, but Lowlakes aren’t far away at all. “Buffalo”, in particular, is a good introduction to the EP, beginning with a cocksure swagger that melts into a cry so fragile that it’s practically shattered already. It’s easy to make glum music, but tough to do it with any gravitas; Lowlakes aren’t having any problems in that area. 

You can buy the whole EP here.