BLK JKS – After Robots

BLK JKS’ only previous release, the four-track Mystery EP released way back in March, was a beautiful piece of work. Complex and somehow accessible; subtle, and yet completely balls-to-the-wall. It showed infinite promise, a band that could go in any direction and do anything, it was, as it’s title suggested, one of the most mysterious and enigmatic releases for a long time.The problem with this debut full-length can be best evidenced by the only track from Mystery that made the transition to the album. ‘Lakeside’, in it’s early form, opened the EP with massive gusto, a foggy feedback followed by Lindani Buthelezi’s muffled vocals over what sounded like three different songs at once. On the album, it sounds like a different track entirely, and might as well be. Starting with a staccato guitar picking, Buthelezi’s vocals are crisp and clear, a by-product of which reduces the lyrics to tired cliches rather than mysterious voices calling to you in the darkness, and after four minutes or so the song reaches an unspectacular ending with a chorus of faux-Mars Volta proportions in a cavalcade of scratchy guitas and wailing.The problem doesn’t repeat itself over the entire album, where BLK JKS’ South African roots are displayed everywhere from the track names downward. Buthelezi takes the time to sing in at least two different languages - forgive my ignorance of South Africa’s eleven official languages, but it’s probably one of them. It’s on the tracks where they allow their massive range of influences to reign free that they really live up to their potential. ‘Kwa Nqingetje’ marks the album’s centre-piece, a near eight minute epic which quietly builds into one of the songs of the year. The band venture through art-rock, dub-step and total fucking freakout, even before they reach the six minute mark.Sadly, it’s only when they really let the music take control that they reach these heights. Secret Machines’ Brandon Curtis is the man behind the desk here, and he could certainly do to let the band do things their way more often. So many occasions here I found myself getting into a track, before it peters out in an implosion of of self-control. Songs like ‘Skeleton’ start to find their way before just turgidly repeating themselves, there’s a really disappointing overall feeling of neutrality to the record, the sound of something great struggling to get out and only irregularly making it.The main disappointment though is that the EP really was that goddamn good. Like I said earlier, BLK JKS were a band that could have gone anywhere - indeed, still could, given more time and freedom with their next effort - but here they chose the wrong direction. The ambition shown here - and there is masses of it - is regularly overturned by a sensibility that just wasn’t necessary. Over twenty minutes there is mystery and intrigue. Over forty-five, BLK JKS just show too much of their hand.BLK JKS on MySpace