An Ode To The Voidz
September 5 | Written by Jess Wilkinson
“What the hell is this?” This is a question that has been asked in regards to music since the invention of instruments. When people first heard Black Sabbath, they were terrified. When nu-metal came along and Johnathan Davis from Korn started frothing at the mouth down the microphone, they were even more terrified. I bet some people heard Mozart for the first time in the 18th century and thought “Good heavens, what is this tosh assaulting mine ears?”
But all these artists slowly became revered. Perhaps the “what the hell is this” phenomenon is indicative of great music. Such a phenomenon was no doubt experienced by listeners upon hearing The Voidz’ second studio album, “Virtue.”
Formed by Julian Casablancas of The Strokes in 2013, The Voidz creates an over-arching sound in that album that is out of this world. While this is a rather cliché and overused metaphor, it is very appropriate here; in the most complimentary way, The Voidz’s music wouldn’t be out of place playing on a jukebox on Saturn. They dip into genres including new wave, heavy metal, punk, old school hip-hop and alternative rock. They even exhibit classical and Arabic influences in certain songs.
Cult Records dub them as “mutant-pop,” while Casablancas himself calls their style “futuristic prison jazz.” But there are aspects of their music that just cannot be easily categorised—and that’s not a bad thing. They might be a bit out there, but in the words of Marty McFly: “Guess you guys aren’t ready for that yet. But your kids are gonna love it.”
What better way to talk about the space-age, futuristic nature of The Voidz than “Virtue”’s second song, “QYURRYUS.” The song starts off with a false sense of security, with a somewhat familiar, if distorted and buzzing, guitar and bass intro. Then, with a warning hum, it launches into a warbling, somewhat hypnotic keyboard riff. The listener is thrown off; this isn’t what they might have been expecting. Perhaps they were expecting a similar sound to The Strokes.
When guitarist Beardo comes in with a wailing, distorted, completely unearthly riff, the listeners’ confusion is only heightened. The first guitar solo brings the confusion up even more. It doesn’t sound like it should be making that noise. Is the guitar broken? No, it’s intentional. Casablancas’ vocals are unintelligible, then suddenly sound like they’ve been ripped from a Bollywood film. Later, his voice is autotuned to a point of barely sounding human, transformed into a musically inclined robot. All the while, the same hypnotic keyboard, bass and guitar wiggles its way through the duration of the song. The listener cannot help but think, what the hell is this?
But they cannot turn it off. And for days after, although they might not want it to be, the song is stuck in their head. They replay it over and over, trying to make sense of it. Before they know it, the song is crawling up their On Repeat playlist, and without even realising it they have become The Voidz’ biggest fan.
The Voidz sets out to deconstruct what music can be, and what it “should” sound like. Their utter boldness and disregard for the unwritten rules is what makes them so intriguing.