120 Days

Maybe it’s the long nights with nothing to do but take drugs and play music, or maybe it’s the band’s position outside of America’s mainstream, but whatever the case, Norway’s 120 Days has managed to create a murky, driving album that puts the relentless pulse of synthetic percussion and old, cheesy keyboards to good use. Like New Order and the other Eighties dance pop bands they obviously emulate, 120 Days has found a way to make an angular rhythm swing, with judicious use of guitar and bass to goose the music into sinister overdrive. Lead singer dne Meisfjord’s hopeless, pleading yowl channels Robert Smith’s baleful crooning at its most demented, but for the most part, the vocals are smothered in the band’s pulverizing beat, just another element in a bleak drone. 120 Days hasn’t yet managed to transcend all its New Wave and goth influences, but its murky vision produces plenty of kicks for fans of morbid, atmospheric rock.