Body Broker – Sex Mask

By Finn Wentz

I listen to my fair share of post-punk and alternative rock, but Body Broker offers a new interpretation of the genre with its little splash of high-voltage yet emotional guitar riffs and passionate and melancholic lyricism. The EP’s first track, ‘Cold’, kicks off with some driving guitar work from Kaya Martin, seemingly taking the lead as the trio of Australians delve into their second-ever EP release. The playing resembles something that you might hear from The Cure or the Happy Mondays, proving that a smaller group from the other side of the planet can hold their own among the greats, even in the band's infancy. Vocalist Wry Gray follows along, belting lyrics that are adjacent to a love ballad but are instead injected with gruesome imagery. The lyrics follow the story of someone who exists on the boundaries of love, estranged from their own emotion and left pondering. ‘Cold’ takes your typical lyricism of roses and peachy love and trades it for death and pain, clearly staying true to its name. You can almost feel the wind blow a little harsher when listening, and the song fittingly ends abruptly with  a melodic cliffhanger that leaves you unsettled. The powerhouse behind it all is drummer Vicente Moncada), whose grungy but tight rhythms ensure the music doesn’t lose sight of its Punk heritage. Next, we have ‘Blisters’, which offers a slower alternative to the swift tempo of ‘Cold’. Kaya Martin’s multi-instrumentalism really shines here, with synth crescendos taking center stage. Martin seems to purposefully drift in and out of key with his playing, instilling a feeling of uncertainty or confusion in the listener before resolving back into the main melody. ‘Blisters’ features vocal harmonies throughout, though they lack slightly in their coordination. The result is a panicky combination of the group's voices that works great with the backing instrumentals. ‘Blister’ quietly concludes with a fade-out that leads right into the dismal and murky tune, ‘Curse’. This is the most expressive song on the EP. The tone shifts to a clear minor key floating atop a guitar riff that feels hostile. The bass guitar seems to take the lead, jamming hard on the chords and dragging us all along with it. Gray’s voice is full of passion, screaming into the choruses and constantly pushing an octave higher. Even with a scratchy and strained voice, or perhaps because of it, Gray still holds to the emotion of the song. The gritty vocals fit right in with the depressive vibe emanating from Martin’s guitar strings. The EP’s final track, ‘Dirt’, takes us back home with a melody that feels cheerful in comparison to its predecessor. It seems to tow the strange thin line between cheerful and sorrowful, as if each instrument is assigned a different mood to project. The synth lifts the song in the direction of happiness, but is held back by the bass and guitar, which keep the song tethered to darker rhythms during the song's verses. After a couple listens, I can confidently say Sex Mask stays true to the essence of post-punk music with Body Broker. I think more variety would’ve gone a long way, but for an EP that is difficult to accomplish. I strongly recommend it to anyone who likes punk adjacent music but is looking for that extra taste of severity.