Cacophonous Revival, the independent record label founded and run by Samuel Goff, thrives on releasing music that can’t be easily categorized but also refuses to let the listener be lulled into complacency. The imprint’s Bandcamp page explains that their aims and goals are to “not be constrained by genre or geography but to have a unifying theme. One of passion, excitement, and experimentation in music.” Their latest release certainly fits in with that theme, in the form of Death Sneeze, an odd but riveting duo that seems unconcerned with labels.
Death Sneeze are comprised of multi-instrumentalist Mary Knapp, who also founded the cabaret soul band Toot Sweet, and drummer and co-producer Lily Wen. Guitarist Isaac Hernandez and a number of other musicians join them on their self-titled debut, recorded in the Dominican Republic and mixed by Wen in Brooklyn. Knapp’s accordion (which she plays in addition to guitar and vocals) often plays a part in the unique makeup of the songs, such as the opening track “Factory Suite”, which bounces around like a punk cabaret number. “What’s Wrong” moves along the same circles, with an odd, stuttering time signature that recalls Captain Beefheart at his most Dada.
But it’s far from just nihilism and noise. There’s surprising depth to this album. “62$ of Plastic Food” incorporates an Afropop beat and a winning sense of melody (Knapp has genuine Broadway chops, having performed in the Tony-nominated musical Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812). “Best There Is” is a country/soul ballad wrung through the gritty Death Sneeze production machine. There’s a simple charm to the slinky, tuneful “My Song”, which includes the priceless repeated line, “No sex, but you can eat shit.”
Variety abounds on Death Sneeze’s debut, from the artful, noisy set piece “Trap Guitar” to the slinky, bluesy “Fui Al Bosque”. Throughout, you get the sense that Knapp and Wen have talent and vision to spare, but they enjoy keeping it wrapped up in the joyful sneer of DIY punk. Even on the epic, quasi-operatic closer, “Visage D’Or”, the quiet spaces have a harsh sheen. Knapp, Wen, and their various co-conspirators have crafted an album that is – to borrow a word from their label – cacophonous but also contains a million unique moments that are ripe for discovery.