Zond – Zond

Zond have lingered in the shadowy maelstrom of Melbourne’s drinking corners for too long. For too many years they have burst forth with gusto and fallen foul of institutions bent on order. Their debut album tells this story and more.

There’s a truly carnal air throughout Zond’s debut, and it grows and growls louder as the album plays out. The cavernous beginning of IO are impossibly well executed; drones seeping out as though they are a squally cascade of guitars hit like a tidal wave. The rest is history.

Zond are a four-piece and the wall-of-noise they deliver is that of a forty-piece, at times like Love Of Diagrams with a Branca-esque choir of hairy guitars surrounding them. It’s indicative of Serena Manesh or Snowman on Blue Haze, Crow’s early mangy indie-rock on Face In Grey, and Sonic Youth’s surging cataclysm of sound circa Daydream Nation throughout Dunvegan Castle.

But Zond wail: their guitars and bass are – guided lovingly by Jack Farley – enormous, pounding pummeled masses. Drummer Tym Krasevac refuses to be ousted from the action and rhythmically, Zond are strident and focused beneath the flailing winds of distortion and resonance.

Beastly, brutal and brilliant.