Kids Of Zoo are an intriguing band. The Melbourne trio, led by guitarist Tim Wold, has been progressively moving further and further away from the conventional structures of rock’n’roll. With every new song, they are becoming more abstract and reductivist in their execution.

In this approach Kids Of Zoo have few peers. Less robotically precise than My Disco, less mathematically complex than Truth From Facts, less scattershot than When Chimps Attack; instead they bring to mind the work of the famous abstract expressionist painter Franz Kline. Like Kline, Kids Of Zoo employ a few, carefully chosen, deft brushstrokes, starkly monochrome and seemingly simple. The resulting pictures are messy and gestural, drips and mistakes part of the intended effect, but the end product is monumental nonetheless.

The four songs on this 7” EP are short blasts of condensed raw power. They are also four variations on Kids Of Zoo’s particular methodology. The rhythm section drives each song, with the guitar responding to, rather than leading the charge. Wold’s chanted vocals are another rhythmic element. His lines are clipped, short and sharp, repetitive in lyric, tone and phrasing. This works to great effect, reinforcing the stuttering nature of the music, especially when Wold trades lines with bassist Adam Clarke. Power and dynamics are deliberately held in check and released in controlled amounts.

The intention behind the songs is obscure, meaning intentionally buried under the grit of vocal distortion in favour of a textural effect. As a guitarist, Wold does a lot with very little, often holding single notes or chords, while the bass and drums pound along unimpeded. With each song around two minutes long, White Chocolate makes a point of not outstaying its welcome. It’s a perfect artifact by a band that is clearly excited about forging its own path.

by René Schaefer