With a name like Everyone To The Anderson, and a full-length debut entitled The Man Born From Inside of a Horse, it's fair to say that the three-piece out of Brighton are not afraid of obscure references. One listen to this sprawling eleven tracker will tell you why; 'Man Born...' is a hard record to pin down, citing three decades of new-wave, post-punk, hardcore, and math-rock. At times, it's a bewildering assault, and yet, for all it's contradictory elements, ETTA have delivered the album they've always threatened to; monster riffs, big bass, and a rhythm attack as sharp as a scalpel.

Brighton has a reputation for producing bands that assault the ears, with The Ghost for a Thousand and Blood Red Shoes helping to establish a scene more analogous to the American Northwest than anywhere in the UK. What distinguishes ETTA, however, is a musical virtuosity and broad canvas of influences. Opener 'High Brow, Low Brow, No Eye Brow' begins with staccato jolts of guitar and drums, then melds into melodic guitar riffing reminiscent of early Minus The Bear. From here, we're straight into new-wave territory with 'So You're Saying There's a Chance,' a comparatively melodic number with emotive repetitive riffing. 

That the record can make these stylistic jumps is it's biggest strength. 'Danzig High Flyer' and 'Knuckle Supper' both encompass a math-rock sensibility, with gripping drum patterns that could get you dancing, moshing or comatose in equal measure. They slow it down in 'Wake When Some Vile Thing Is Near,' sounding like they're about to close the album with a psychedelic surf-guitar outro, only to bombard the listener with dirty repetitive bass notes in 'Face Like Centurion.' It's compelling stuff, the soft-loud dynamic played out on foreign musical landscapes.  

But no matter how emotive the musical arranging of 'Man Born...'  seems to be, there's very little telling what the band is getting at. Anyone reading this review will have noticed an abundance of nonsensical track titles that are either taking the piss or alluding to some higher calling. The effect is nonetheless the same; a barrier between ETTA and listener. A similar discord is evident in the vocals; often jarringly pronounced over the brutal and beautiful tapestries of guitar and drums, they risk sounding contrived outside of a discernible context.

These are minor quibbles. 'Man Born...' is a record to be studied for its intense compositions, which is to say, somewhat pretentiously, that it rocks hard. If you want to have your face tastefully melted off this summer, get a hold of it through whatever means.

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