Neckbolt Dream Dump

Neckbolt strives to dismantle the overtly masculine pitfalls of noise rock. There’s no tough guy posturing. There’s no hyper-macho aggression. If anything, Dream Dump is a headtrip into the recesses of the unconscious mind, a reflection of dreams interpreted and reinterpreted, and the weirdness that results. The dream state is thick and dense. There are songs about sleep paralysis via Chinatown bus rides (“Fung Wah or Lucky Star”), talking rocks and malevolent off-screen entities (“Cicada”), and what might be the singular tree at the beginning of the world (“No Magic”). This is a stream of conscious songwriting from the framework of the unconscious. While Roo’s backlog of dreams lend inspiration to the lyrics and themes, the music pulls influence from the unique and distinguished sounds of Boredoms, Screaming Jay Hawkins, Mystic Djim & The Spirits, and Polvo, as well as modern day genre expanding acts like Thee Oh Sees, Palm, and Guerilla Toss. Neckbolt understands context and divergent sounds, their music is often swarming and easy to get lost in, amorphous and fervently interesting. The band are primed to re-contextualize noise rock, creating their own animalistic sound, a swirling, ground shaking mix of acid fueled structures, primal rhythmic force, and cosmic asides. The record convulses and spits with character rather than angst or anxiety, the sonic brutality is met with cartoonish glee and dynamic textures. Roo’s processed vocals wail, slither, and screech against fractured motorik boogie and disjointed grooves. Their music is energetic and dance-floor ready, juxtaposing loud and abrasive with hypnotic and fluid. They’ve adopted an atonal bliss, where dread is transposed into possibility. Anything can happen. Dream Dump feels like a celebration, the landscapes of our dreams have been brought out into the open, and now we’re all just scraping for our own meanings.