After the “art kids” finished their respective sets, rock 'n' roll came down just like the monsoon outside when The N.E.C. took the stage. The traditional form of a drummer, two guitarists and a bass player returned to the 529, but it played a set that was just as experimental and unique as the bands that preceded them. The loud tremolo-picking guitars created a wall of sound that was only accentuated by the hard and jarring rhythm section. The psychedelic vocals gave way to the more shoegaze-like atmospheric tones the instruments created, albeit in a manner similar to putting your head against a speaker on full volume while in the midst of a euphoric acid trip. The simple roots of their songs come out of the amps as chaotic, primal and blood-thirsty rites of passage and if you survived them, they welcomed you into the tribe with the still-dripping flesh of your enemies. The N.E.C’s songs were brutal, yet somehow still gave you the impression like they were leading you somewhere and trying to give you direction – who the fuck knows where – but all I could imagine was listening to a warlord lead his troops into battle. The set ended with a cacophony of noise and dramatic guitar detuning. It was almost as if the militaristic rape of your ears was actually the systematic destruction and rehabilitation of your medulla oblongata. I left feeling as if I’d been reprogrammed to pray, obey and of course kill. It was simply awesome. This band has quickly earned a reputation as one of the best bands in the city, and after tonight it's been totally legitimized in my mind.
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-Review and video by Albert Opraseuth PERFORMER MAGAZINE


Layers of rich, sonic depth crowd the simple songwriting at the center
of the N.E.C.'s side of this split 10-inch EP. A spiral of guitars,
hiss and reverb melt into a thick shag carpet of sound with "Old
Medicine." "Aria Girl" drags out a haunting and hypnotic rock mantra
that mutates into a morphine tribal haze. On the flip side, Jovontaes'
"Paradise City" holds a formless, experimental quality as it lumbers
like a freight train, focusing on a single, plodding pace where all of
the action happens in the periphery. Each side counters the other with
a slur of damaged, psychedelic dirge. The N.E.C. side stretches out
into the ether, while Jovontaes guides its song on an intensely inward
journey. 5/5 stars.