Me Ne Frego
Golden September
Marshiruem
The Bitter Road
Rus!

Cadence of Reign
Torn to Iron
Natyani
Ryba Beloshyolka
Chugunnie Sny

The excarcerated force of Levoi Pravoi’s debut album is a rarefied structure amongst the martial façade’s within the niche battlefield under smog-choked sky, sepulchral ruins and vaulted edifices of grandeur; "March in September" is of the latter.

Fibrillating glitches escort a veneer of rainfall and drenched vocal perorations, the atypical rhythmic clacking bristling with crescendos of noise, shuffle, and organ tremolo. By the second track, 'Golden September' Levoi Pravoi has pressed pass the initial foray with intimations of what is to come, the digital twitching elements enervate the military procession, steam powered industrial rhythms salt the bleak welkin. Threnodic, ashen vocals, narrate pathways through a field littered with the semblance of bodies and twisted metal. Restive pace veers into landscapes hazed in amber apocalypse in 'Marshiruem', where voluble poetry spills viscera at the fane of war until the steps increase wearily through the holy adytum of conflict, misery, pain, bloodshed.'The Bitter Road' tattoo’s corroded military-pop, parodying itself with graveled vocals abed marching snare and bass drum with escalading electric guitar. Russian vocals make their first appearance on 'Rus!' a forlorn storm of conflict chronicling a regimen of urgency on tempo of pianoforte and concentric percussion. Variegating the sojourn, 'Cadence of Reign' haunts phantasmal horizons dispersing an esoteric march where ghostly organ drenched in reverb formulates cloudy snaking tendrils underneath a high priest’s malign incantations. Levoi Pravoi’s integration of electronic sampling and digital blisters into what has predominantly been a morose landscape discloses opulence in the guttering fires and torn limbs. 'Torn to Iron' segues and slips out of phase that it begs to be played to backwards, skewed percussion syncopates with the hyperventilating Russian vocals. “Natyani” shares space with clouds of insects, yet is one of the less dark of the tracks on March in September, with lamenting and poignant melody and choir. Squawking traditional folk regaled by a cadre of women gyrates with a crescendo of orchestral percussion in an unsettling reverie in 'Ryba Beloshyolka'. Lastly, 'Chugunnie Sny' ripples a tide of toms measured with hand cymbals in a purely introspective instrumental

Blending new well-honed digital elements into an established and clichéd genre as the bombastic and military pop, Levoi Pravoi have nourished a barren soil and proffer hope of future warfare instead of reprising the battlefields of old.

Released on 12” black vinyl (though there is a grey edition forthcoming) in a limited edition of 333 copies, the album is sumptuously designed. Decaying baroque fabric of an ancient book is torn at the edges to reveal the mouldy casements, weathered sewn binding of a volume with aged sheaves of paper protruding.

NYR