Emenkaya, who is named after a religious cult from Denmark, plays depressive hardcore with a vocal delivery that balances between agressive and manic. The band consists of members from Cola Freaks and Under Al Kritik.
Aarhus based EMENKAYA is a new (post-)hardcore outfit with a lineup, which includes people from the late COLA FREAKS and UNDER AL KRITIK.
Their debut 12” EP is out on VULGAR DEFORMITY in 250 copies.
So you jump onto the back of this rust-ridden moped, with a viciously snarling engine, running at 45 RPM, making the rusty exoskeleton sing – and you blast off!
Through hazardous mine-fields, bursting into meter-tall mud columns, as you pass by; black, dense and depression-deep forests; and beat up suburb roads shrouded in dark, cold autumn nights.
And the driver recites obscure poetry of absinthe aggressions & cocaine mysticism - cursing conformity, blessing misanthropy and embracing the bitter facts of death. His tone of voice is feverishly floating between anxious screams and apathetic shouts - singing like smacked-up shamanistic preachings through city slum.
The hole set makes you feel like you are caught up in the vibrant mind of a schizophrenic punk-rocker from the mid-eighties still riding high on the virile DC-energy, still embracing the sound of asphalt-raw NY slum rock'n'roll/protopunk – though being heavily drawn toward the frantic depression of mid-eighties post-punk outfits.
The energy and tempo reminds one of D.C. outfits like Bad Brains/Minor Threat, the whereas the overall sound-picture will remind you of outfits like Dead Boys or Richard Hell...
And the frantic, dark madness might make one think of post-punk/-hardcore outfits like Rites of Spring or the later Hüsker Dü (on coke).
A strange mixture of sounds, moods and settings of mind – and not always a pleasant ride:
At it's start the tour takes of through two rough stretches of crotch-grinding rides through heavily bombarded minefields, before blasting into – and through - a smooth path of dark melancholy and desperation, before blasting over bombed out roads and stopping after a bumpy ride through muddy, gravel ridden paths with orange-leafed trees singing their sad melodic goodbyes.
This will baffle you at first and will take some getting used to, before you can fully appreciate the experience!
Everything is flickering before your eyes, screeching in your ears and turns into blurred out fragments of moods and landscapes.
The B-stretch, however, goes a lot smoother as your ride carry you over smooth asphalt, through setting desert sun into the dark night full of poisonous snakebites to your; pull your body through virile flickering forests in snowless winters and ends up shooting you, your ride and the driver into a wall, before the record dies out in a fiery explosion.
