Tom Halstead and Joe Andrews have always championed a sound that can’t quite be placed, but Moin’s experimental bedroom demo-tape vibe is the linchpin of their discography. 2021 debut Moot! was rich in post-punk rigour and chopped-up vocal samples. Drummer Valentina Magaletti joined the duo for 2022’s Paste, an avant-garde offering that hinted at the seeds of a bigger idea. ‘You Never End’ pushed the proverbial boat out, providing a semblance of regularity and straying from their typically piecemeal, Jenga-like philosophy. Now, with Belly Up, the London three-piece return to their minimalist roots while pushing sonic boundaries to new, explorative heights.
The group’s sonic soundscapes feel both deliberate and instinctive. ‘See’ kicks off the EP like clockwork. Drummer Valentina Magaletti is the glue of this track, playing a continual tom rhythm that pairs seamlessly with Qatari-American writer Sophia Al Maria’s slow-burn stream of consciousness (Al Maria began her collaboration with Moin on You Never End). Experimental loop musician and saxophonist Ben Vince also makes an appearance on ‘See’, meaning that it’s probably a saxophone we’re hearing, and not a set of detuned, discordant bagpipes. Released alongside ‘See’ as a double single, ‘X.U.Y’ elevates their post-everything sound, evoking the feeling of slowly returning to your body after a panic attack. It’s less like an assortment of unidentifiable noises and more like an actual, cohesive track that wouldn’t be out of place on You Never End.
‘You Leave Me Breathless’ recalls the cacophonous opening minutes of a band practice, with the percussion warmup that could go on forever, and the vocalist who tests out their shiny new gadget for the very first time. ‘I’m Really Flagging’ is blissful noise rock malarkey. It’s one of those moments where electronic elements sneak in so subtly, it feels organic, and it leaves you curious for more. The modular experiments of ‘I Don’t Know Where to Look’ and ‘The Day’ present an exercise in sampling the everyday: always keep your eyes and ears open. You never know what an idea might germinate. Whatever you do – don’t throw anything away.
Moin’s spoken word overlays capture the feeling of garbled, 3am phone calls with a close friend, when you’re teetering on the edge of slumber. Only the two of you can understand what the other’s trying to say. Moin achieves this intimacy to a level that almost feels intrusive, drawing from their ever-growing, eclectic personal sound library.
If the new album finds Moin back within the tighter confines of their debut following the far-out explorations of , they’ve certainly come a long way since the Massive Attack-meets-Slint-meets-a Nutribullet world of Moot!. Belly Up is still delightfully confused, but it wears that confusion with pride. In a world already in disarray, Moin invites us to own the chaos and wear it like a badge of honour.
