The coolest thing about the first two albums of bludgeoning math-metal instrumentals by Norwegian trio Noxagt is that they were made without a guitar. Nils Erga's hard-sawing viola could certainly sound like a guitar, and sometimes like an actual viola, but mostly it spewed an unidentifiable mix of winding screech and stubbly drone over Kjetil D. Brandsdal's earth-digging bass and Jan Christian L. Kyvik's precision drum pummel.
The aesthetic shift on the cover of Noxagt's self-titled third album-- instead of shadowy Nordic imagery, we get a pinup of ripped buttocks in band-logo underwear-- suggests something has changed. Something has: Erga has been replaced by guitarist Anders Hana, Brandsdal's bandmate in jazz-noise juggernaut Ultralyd. Like the oddly blunt cover art, Hana announces himself immediately. The album-opening "Histrionix" begins with his blistering, right-angled chords, the kind of classically straight move Erga generally avoided.
Yet the overall effect of this key lineup change is smaller than one might expect. Certainly Noxagt's sonic affinities are clearer than before: the triangular formulas of Oxes and early Don Caballero, the hyper prog of Ruins and Lightning Bolt, and the dark crescendos of Scandinavian metal are all more discernible here, mostly due to Hana's simpler, riff-bending style. But the trio's essential elements-- lumbering rhythms, bombastic crashes, a mean cross of tight pound and blurring volume-- remain powerfully intact.
On "Wall's End", Hana's weighty noodlings recall Ian Williams' heavier moments, while Brandsdal and Kyvik plod forward like a B-movie robot leaving city-sized footprints until his batteries run out. The exploratory "Soft Sugar" meanders under Hana's reverberating slashes until a thunderous Brandsdal loop forges an atmosphere that Hana rolls through like a gathering storm cloud. Later, the 12-minute "Impious One" is Noxagt at its most symphonic. Here, Hana's messiest feedback sprays noise over the rhythm section's pooky lurch.
The only real misstep on Noxagt is "Ninety Parallels Ago", a slow-motion crawl that attempts momentum through lunging pauses, but never quite gathers steam. Still, Noxagt's musical gravity is so alluring that even its rare lulls feel earned and strangely hypnotic, like the sweaty bliss of a heavy-legged jog after a marathon workout.
It also doesn't hurt that the best track immediately follows: The algebraic "Coefficient Ascender" launches full-speed into a metal-noise maelstrom, with the trio sprinting up its own wall of sound like a waterfall in reverse. Heavy with black rhythm yet shining with vivid noise, the track offers a nutshell of this daunting group's past and future, both of which remain blindingly bright.
