No MonoIt may have taken two years for Melbourne’s No Mono to deliver last year’s extraordinary debut but here is the sequel. Could they have simply released a double first time 'round? Possibly. But that would have diluted the slow-burning wisp of that first record and muzzled the increased energies of this second.
Part 2 contains more pace. Don’t stress, they’ll never be Calvin Harris’ bros, but there’s a spring in the step of City Gets Better and Keep On that they rightly held back for a bit. City Gets Better skitters along powered by the kind of glitch-pop that Jimmy Tamborello fused into The Postal Service’s debut. You'll need to strap in for Fever Highs, a terrifyingly intense moment of erotic craving and insecurity writhing on a bed made with Massive Attack’s sheets.
Tom Snowden’s husky vocals are, once again, arresting in their vulnerability and capable of moving robots to a blubbering mess, but No Mono works because of the dichotomy with Tom Iansek’s control of the backdrop; an undulating guitar lick here, a foreboding growl of bass there. As individuals, the Toms command attention. Together, they are atomic.
