Enon

by David Morris
3.21.2000

With a sound somewhere between the MC5, Kool and the Gang and a Ford assembly line, the fine looking young men of Enon worship the glitch, drop mad soulful funk, and break beats open to feast upon the goo inside. Frontman John Schmersal’s slinky, insinuated and occasionally poppy vocals float through an environment of overdriven, decaying synthesizers, shards of guitar, and intricate electro-rock rythms made of Eniac error tones. It’d be dynamite makeout music, if your aim was to seduce a sexy lady robot.

This should come as no surprise to those who know where Enon’s members have been before. Schmersal is former guitarist for indie legends Brainiac, whose blend of spastic Devo-esque geek rock and burning punk noise made for one of the ‘90s most enthralling listening experiences. The remainder of the trio are collaborators in the Skeleton Key conspiracy, a sinister plot to integrate pop music and junkyard-sampled chaos. The melding is smooth, with the end result more accessible than Brainiac, tempering energy and volume with tight rock song constructions.

Beleivo!

Enon’s new debut album, believo!, explores a wide range of styles from a foundation of unbridled sonic experimentation. Some of the songs are laid-back, sunny pop with only occasional hints of subversive color, others are slow, twisted soul numbers evocative of "Strange Fruit". Still others, my personal favorites, are off-center rock n’ roll rave-ups wedding catchy, edgy riffs and skittering electro beats. Our featured track, "Rubber Car", brilliantly embodies the disturbing sensuality of Enon, with slow beats providing a foundation for distorted, hyperactive soul vocals that still manage to come a cross as sexy.

I’ve said that Enon subdue the chaos of Brainiac with a more straight-ahead delivery, but don’t mistake this for a reversion to the standard indie-rock formula. Despite their pop sensibility, the men of Enon are not to be trifled with. They are harbingers of subversion, and the occasional hints of normalcy in their music are just part of their plan to undermine your sense of good and bad, right and wrong, rock and religion. You may not even see them for what they are, drawn in by their slinky charm, their cold eyes masked by the smoke they exhale and their mic-hugging moves. Listen, and listen hard, for the sound of rock falling apart.