Everyone has gaps in their collections. Mine happens to be industrial and synthetic rock. Anzi (which even Last.Fm struggles to locate) nicely fills that gap, so my points of reference here are inevitably going to be bands like Rammstein, Ministry and The Prodigy. “Finnish-born, London-based industrial rock rebel” Anzi is flavoured a little less-intensely than those references and throws more punk and dance into the mix. Don’t worry though, he leaves out none of the hooks.
Former Stereo Junkies’ frontman Anzi is now on his second album release and Black Dog Bias is one that takes its title from the prejudice of certain animal shelters that seems to favour the destruction of black dogs over dogs of another colour.
With buzz-saw guitars, a fizzing synthesizer spitting out the riff and a gutsy, deep-set bass all crashing in around the robust vocal, “Revival”, eases you into this catchy body of work with a pumping workout. Following up, the more affected nasal singing and repetitious, beat-heavy “I Let You Dive” seems to be the track that he’s pushing as a single, but very quickly loses any kooky charm it had past the third play. With “Cortex Command” and the tribal “Fear Is No Prophecy” he hits on lyrics like “You told me this could last / but you cut me off so fast” and “all stripes, no solids”. Here, it seems likely he’s referencing the frailties within our collective subconscious and our latent tendencies towards group cohesion.
There’s a classy flow to the construction of these songs; each one welds its point to the spine of the album whilst retaining its own identity. The result is a varied album where most tracks stand out and that’s the sign of a good songwriter. Throughout there’s little hits in the background that stand out if you look deep – “God On The Screen” has some sweet ethnic touches and “Delusions” holds a largesse of acoustic guitar with some emotional licks of fiddle. The rapid-fire delivery and addictive meat-hook of “Big Enemy” invigorates and “False Saints” blisters and batters with its crushing drumtrack and scrambling guitar – this could be the anthem to an underground fist-fight.
Lyrically, it’s a little loose with “God On The Screen” spouting such drivel as “No confessions in the battle / No lights in the tunnel” and “Nuclear Sire” housing the god awful “She could never harm a fly / She would cry to see a mosquito die / She’s real like a firefly” but, all told, it’s a cracking little album. You could have plucked this from 10-15 years ago, such are the grunge and punk edges to its synthpop, but it still works in a modern environ and the intensity of some of the tracks mark Anzi out as essential listening for fans of the genre.
(7/10 John Skibeat)
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