King Nun - Mass

Starting on their musical journey as punks, west Londoners King Nun have already come a long way.

Signed aged seventeen, their most immediate dilemma was how to play in venues when they themselves were underage. As tales of teenage angst go, of which this album contains many, it’s one of the more unique. Sadly, we don’t get an answer to that specific question.

Otherwise, Mass is steeped in subject matter that bedevils all of us at a certain age: melancholy, anxiety, jealousy, lust and aspiration are all universal issues but manifest themselves uniquely. King Nun take the defiant approach, wrapping lyrics around said issues in uninhibited indie rock. The influences are keenly felt throughout, but this works for them in that they can simply focus on the key messages.

Frontman Theo Polyzoides channels Placebo’s Brian Molko on opener ‘Mascara Runs’ (and not just in the title), a sneering desperation coursing through his voice (‘if I don’t grow up you won’t listen’) over early Bloc Party guitars. Androgyny is something to explore and be proud of, ‘Chinese Medicine’ mellows the angst with excellent time-keeping by the whole band. ‘Transformer’ evokes the free-wheeling spirit of Britpop, musically if not lyrically (‘how do you hate in a place like this?’).

By this point all the PR surrounding the diversity of the album starts to ring hollow, with three consecutive tracks of recognisably British indie. Fortunately, ‘Cowboy’ signals the beginning of more unchartered waters, adding some slight but noticeable funk to proceedings with a momentum building chorus covering toxic masculinity. ‘I Saw Blue’ slows things down slightly, but with sudden changes in key and volume between verse and chorus.

Centrepiece and highlight of the album is ‘Black Tree’, the simplistic and solid rhythmic strumming providing the backbone of an insight into depression. The song builds and builds, adding yearning strings and further harmonies, reflecting the dark internalisation that are inescapable for those with mental health problems via the metaphor of the tree growing. It belies the youthfulness of its composers.

‘Low Flying Dandelion’ is neon funk, sonically evoking the warped melodies of Talking Heads and finished off with a guitar outro that wouldn’t sound out of place on mid-period Supergrass, immediately followed and contrasted by ‘Sharing A Head With Seth’ and its troubadour slacker rock, while ‘Intravenous’ tempers the urgent strut of Wire with guitar acrobats worthy of Graham Coxon. ‘A Giant Came Down’ is a paean to long forgotten German folk singer Sibylle Baier, a woozy guitar, vocally strained burst of energy on which the album ends.

There is much to be appreciated on this promising debut, but it’s sometimes a confusing listen. The subject matter shouldn’t be taken lightly, yet the music doesn’t comfortably fit with it. But it’s splendidly enjoyable indie rock that can only be made by young people.

Mass is tight, musically concise and augurs well for King Nun’s future.