No one likes to admit it, but indie kids sometimes lean into their circles. If the same chords worked 10 years ago, they’ll work again now; the excitable teens that flocked to the dives then can actually afford the LPs at the merch table. Now, you can’t fault trailblazers for retreading the paths they’d already forged—as the old adage goes, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. But we’d live in a sad, homogenous world if everyone stayed in their lane and didn’t try anything new.

Moloq

Granted, people often think that the arrow of change travels only two ways. Either you try to wedge yourself more neatly into popular convention, or you flee as far as possible to something more distinguished or respectable. But you could argue—and in fact, I will—that shapeshifting duo Moloq shuffles away from their debut Viscous Pixels with a crab-like dance between the two poles.

When we last tuned in, Jake Aron and Paul Stevens had taken a fanciful flight into the dreamlands of Animal Collective and Dirty Projectors, and ergo had sailed far away from the mainland. With Moloq, the gang have planted an unlikely anchor in the earth; namely, a shamelessly gloopy groove. And yet, by sheer audacity, Moloq remain utterly unanchored at the same time, still floating in their own section of the stratosphere. This time, at least, you can jive while you’re trying to process just where the hell you’re going.

Any attempt to describe Moloq’s current MO has to begin with “Badge,” their first single that dropped waaaaay back in 2017 (time has been weird lately, okay?). Note the casanova, Nile Rodgers-esque guitar, the slicker-than-butter drums, the excessive autotune; crane your ear a little lower, and you’ll hear our protagonists condemn the fear-mongering tactics of the thin blue line. Throughout Moloq, the surface-level ooze that coats songs like “Slow” and “Tycho” belies a sense of global goodwill; granted, the latter almost overcooks that boundary-breaking hospitality, as a new jack swing shuffles precariously into a maudlin medley of strings and bells that rivals the weirdo pomp of the Flaming Lips. Granted, I don’t mesh those two reference points together too often.

At any rate, this expanded palette points up Moloq’s greatest advancement: the duo can chase some pretty wild ambitions and still keep the party going. Take the album’s two uncanny epics, audaciously strung right next to each other on the LP. The two-part “Beau” centers the feminine ideal in an oriental fanfare that spins, bizarrely, into a R&B jam that shines through Pink Floyd’s crazy diamond. “Moral Panic” is even tougher to describe, although anyone who’s weathered the blown-out collages of Big Audio Dynamite or Colourbox from the ‘80s might feel a tinge of dé ja vu. Even in this retro stew, though, Aron and Stevens can mix in some modern snark, as they break down the whimpers of fat cat white men fearful for their imminent loss of power. And, as if to underscore exactly which side they’re on, Moloq then follow-up with the bonkers Bollywood circuitry of “Ruckus al-Ghoul.”

Granted, it’s best not to hang too much on Moloq’s good intentions. You do wonder, after all, if the duo intended to reserve their most radio-ready krautrock carnival for NPR’s Terry Gross; admittedly, though, their geeky deference to the Fresh Air host (not hostess, as the duo muse) is kinda precious: “From WHYY / to WABE / from 7 to 8 / Terry, I think you’re great!” Still, while “Petty Crime” closes the curtains by taking easy potshots at our scumbag president, it’s far more entertaining (and clever) if you think of the multi-stage tune as a rather warped imitation of the old heartland singer-songwriters of yore. The last part in particular, where the blokes adapt uncanny hillbilly accents, smacks a bit of Warren Zevon’s smirk: “Give me an angel on the dash / give me inauguration swagger / give me the greatest trial that you’ve ever seen.”

Ultimately, Moloq places the duo in a rarefied gray zone. They still don’t quite fit snugly in any bite-sized form for the record-buying public to consume, but if their surreal aura touches down at any dive, they’ll hypnotize the crowd into jiving anyway. And while you can’t say where exactly Aron and Stevens are going, that’s still a step outside the circle. And that’s a step in the right direction.

More Info
Bandcamp: moloq.bandcamp.com
Facebook: @moloqmusic
Instagram: @moloqmusic
SoundCloud: @moloqmusic
Twitter: @moloqmusic