EP review: Anavris – Eleven Eyes Of A Simple Man

Any band that name check Oceansize, At The Drive In and The Mars Volta in their list of influences are bound to attract my attention, which gives Glaswegian foursome Anavris something of a head start with their Eleven Eyes Of A Simple Man EP. But over the years, one learns not to trust such things at face value… after all, if I had a penny for every tedious emo also-ran band who compared themselves to ATDI, I’d be sucking down mojitos and huffing through dunes of cocaine on the porch of my Caribbean beach-front mansion right now.

And while Anavris don’t duplicate the sounds of their very progressive influences, they’ve definitely absorbed the appeal of complexity to an order of magnitude more than many of their contemporaries. Glasgow seems to be birthing a whole lot of post-hardcore outfits at the moment, ranging from the dully competent to the genuinely interesting, and based on what I’m hearing here, I’m going to file Anavris in the latter category.

The tunes themselves may not sprawl out to proggish lengths, but the first title sure does – opener “Some Days You Just Can’t Get Rid Of A Bomb” has twiddly metallic lead lines and echo-drenched post-rock melodies alike, chiming arpeggios and thumping bass and an understated yet epic solo, all within the space of less than four minutes. There’s a clean and simple post-hardcore tone to the production, making the tunes contemporary and accessible, but having vocal contributions from all four members lends a depth and variety to the material.

“She Dances” has “Radio One playlist” written all over it, and for once I mean that as a compliment rather than a diss – it’s a hooky and energetic tune in keeping with the popular end of emo and punk, but there’s a tinge of darkness and sincerity to it that stands out like a condom machine freshly installed in the Vatican. There’s a notable lack of shrieky histrionics or “man voice” moments; Anavris are living proof that pop doesn’t have to be pap.

And this is progressive pop, my friends – which, given their list of influences, should come as no surprise. Anavris seem to have the knack of grafting the sound and sensibility of the the more abstract bands to pacey and accessible structures, and while I remain more enamoured of the sprawling canvases of the originators, Eleven Eyes Of A Simple Man is the sort of record I’m relieved to hear, reminding me as it does that not every young band is busily trying to be the next Fall Out Boy. I’ll be watching out for Anavris in live venue listings to see how well they can pull this off on stage, and I suggest that you should too.