The first sixty-nine seconds of l’esprit de l’escalier are the blood clot before the brain haemorrhage. Try to stand in its way for the following 15 minutes and you’ll be ripped to shreds. This is progressive hardcore at its sharpest with jaw dropping guitar work, snap wristed, bone blast drumming and the furious vocal cluster bombs of lead singer Steve Watts. This is no tech demo. You won’t be touching yourself to the sound of some self indulgent, poodle haired guitar heroics. Dig your nails in deep and hold on tight. You won’t have the lungs left to admire the scenery.
After its placid, false sense of security birthing, opener “High Function” hooks in its claws, dragging you head long into its violent labour pain melee. As the notes rip through your ears and into the soft, grey wet stuff beyond, you’re left in no doubt that those behind it all aren’t in the girth and length comparison game. This is predatory feral hardcore with no time for flabby gimmicks and distracting theatrics. The insane fingers-on-fret work was never built to take prisoners.
“Dancing Blind” knows never to play the same trick twice. Its cold, unnervingly still intro offers little shelter from the storm or respite from the pace. Its a knife edge to your diaphragm and a sick feeling in your gut. You know whats coming next but, like eyeballing a cruise missile, there’s little you can do about it.
Racing up another gear, Antares unleash “…but i’m not sure about Singularity” with its delicious mix of frenzied mania and atmospheric presence that blots out the sun and tears holes in space.
Like a juggernaut screeching to a halt, “The Devil Drives” stabs its EP’s full stop finale dead into the ground as it careers home. A full blooded fanfare of an outro that refuses to die quietly.
L’esprit de l’escalier is an exhilarating debut by the four piece from Leeds and Bradford that shows ability beyond their short life span and potential to rise far above their current level. Hopefully a full fat album will soon follow.
9
