There seems to be something spreading in Scotland—a contagious outbreak, not quite a virus, but an unadulterated rage with a beauty within its infectious horror. Nü Cros are Glasgow’s latest band to have become infected, as they reintroduce themselves after two years with their latest release, ‘ILL’.
Emerging from the mechanical hammering of Jude McWilliams’ drums and David Murray’s bass, the tormented whispers of Kevin O’Brien crawl up the back of your neck and burrow themselves deep in your ears. You hear it, you can feel it, worming away, forever just out of grasp. Bringing out Dylan Stewart’s flatlining, tinnitus-inducing guitar, ringing around your skull, nesting, waiting for its moment, as Nü Cros lean into this slow release.
‘ILL’ pulls you into the opaque depths of madness with Nü Cros’ tortured strains as the buzzing grows louder and louder. Blistering, heart-pounding drums explode into the sounds of the swarm. There’s nothing left but the macabre screams of agony. What began as a nauseous haze leaves gruesome blood-spewing convulsions.
Upon writing the single, O’Brien reflects, “When we stopped playing shows, we took time to try to find our sound, find what we wanted from our own art, and this single was where our new-found vision started. We thought it was only right to let this be our first release for our fans and new listeners.”
Nü Cros enter this disfigured nightmare; their sound, now in the clutches of this malady, bears a slight resemblance to Enola Gay, a touch of Show Me The Body, or even to their Scottish contemporaries, Yabba. With a noise-driven force that offers to kick your teeth in, Nü Cros are set to be something quite extraordinary.
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