YHWH Nailgun is a vibrant, violent burst. The quartet of Zack Borzone (vox), Jack Tobias (synth), Sam Pickard (drums), and Saguiv Rosenstock (guitar) display an innate ability to translate a primitive spirit into a modern form. Their second EP, No Midwife and I Wingflap is blunt and bright. At once it sounds immediate, primal, contemporary, and eternal. 

Born during the lockdown as an experimental project between Borzone and Pickard in Philadelphia, the group expanded as the two moved to New York, adding Tobias for their debut self-titled EP, which was produced by Rosenstock, who was then integrated into the band. That first collection is one of self-discovery, of finding the tools necessary to make songs within the band’s own ecosystem. They honed in on their own world and their collaborative, close-knit writing process, discovering the essential structures and feelings that make YHWH Nailgun. It starts with the feeling of a punch, taking heavier, industrial sounds, and condensing them into more urgent, digestible forms, and infusing that with the luster of electronic and dance music. The result is a colorful and visceral force, a pointillistic expression bigger than the sum of its parts. It’s evident in the recording as well as the band’s live performance— each member’s output provides something musically unique, but combined the sound is singular and hulking.

Each of the concise, four tracks on the EP stand on their own as pieces worthy of deeper exploration while also working in tandem to construct No Midwife as a single, cohesive whole. The opener “Too Bright to See,” introduces shimmering electronics and erratic percussion, starting quietly and then quickly growing into bombastic repetitious fiery hits while Borzone’s vocals rise from strained utterances into guttural calls. Moving directly into “Back Muscle,” the music begins a descent into a more overwhelming atmosphere. “Venison Mama” settles into a more regular rhythmic trot, with synths serving as an accent of light against pained, growling vocals, before “Look at Me, I'm a Rainer” again disturbs the balance. The electronics that were a shimmer of hope moments before are now an alarm, a warning signal, and the distorted guitars add oxygen to the surrounding fire. Each moment, sound, and word is deliberate and indispensable, with new elements revealing themselves with each return listen. 

The music of No Midwife feels as though it extends far beyond its ten minutes. The band flexes the ability of their palette and strikes with precision and power. Each track is dense and starkly impactful, allowing short, detailed glimpses into YHWH Nailgun’s still-broadening world.