Diving back into thew same grimy sonic bunker they inhabited on their first record,
Index for Working Musik's second record,
Which Direction Goes the Beam, is another dark and dissonant missive that skirts the edges of melody, grinds the gears of repletion, and captures the kind of malaise and murk that are part of the fabric of being alive in the first half of the 2020s. Using skronky and scratchy guitars, treated vocals, manipulated sounds, and faulty-sounding keyboards, the record inhabits much of the same territory as
Dragging the Needlework for the Kids at Uphole but does it with more subtlety and confidence. The band's sonic architects
Max Oscarnold and
Nathalia Bruno have a firmer grasp on the formula, mixing dread with rare snatches of sunshine like masters of suspense and horror. The shimmering nocturnal folk dirge "Purple Born" is a staggering example of how the band have grown. It shifts from gloomy fingerpicked verses that feel draped in ancient vines to a lovely, major-chord chorus where
Bruno sounds like a forgiving angel, then rinses and repeats with increasing levels of dread and release. It's a wonderfully conceived epic-length track and opens new vistas of possibility for the group. The rest of the album is less ambitious, perhaps, but no less bracing a listen. Shorter, sharper songs that strive for more-focused emotions, like the thundering burst of indie rock that is "X Says," or the gloomily jangling "Sister," show that the band are even better at making insistent, immediate songs that form a deep impression the first time. More obtuse songs that snake and sneak around the point are also something the band does well or even better here. "Fog (You Just Don't Know)" is five minutes of arty mystery topped by a spiraling vocal line that would give
Robyn Hitchcock a pause, "Sparrows Hill" is a slowly unraveling track that relies on space and pin-pricked guitars to make an impression. The only songs that let down the side just a touch are the strictly avant garde-type songs that lack form or function. That being said, these moments do little to detract from the power the rest of the record has, and perhaps a droning, squalling track like "Halb Leib I" provides a bit of staticky, repetitive breathing room. Regardless, the album is a dramatic leap forward for the band, upping the emotional stakes as well as giving the songs some extra sonic dimension along the way to becoming one of the more interesting experimental indie rock bands of their time. ~ Tim Sendra
