Amsterdam-based trio Rex possess a particularly unwavering affection for the curious curvatures of post-punk and new wave music. But they’re not satisfied with simply channeling a superficial homage — they break down these sounds to their barest elements and rebuild them into odd-angled expressions of sorrow, joy, and desperation. You can hear echoes of the works of Leonard Cohen, Nick Cave, and Lou Reed darting among he shadows of the band’s collective creativity.
Fashioned around the talents of singer-guitarist Jonathan Rex, drummer Nout Kooij, and bassist Sara Elzinga, the band is based upon, and allowed to bloom, through the disparate influences of each member. Always stylish and occasionally menacing in their approach, Rex is the result of dark nights feeding off the mesmerizing narratives of artists like Scott Walker and Van Dyke Parks, musicians whose releases are informed of all manner of aesthetics but who hold allegiance to none.
Shortly after forming, the band developed a devoted following in their hometown, which led to shows in cities like London and Berlin. Wherever they brought their ragged punk impulses and shivering new wave instincts (and maybe even a touch of flamenco), people were there to provide absolute attention and compulsory movement.
Rex will be sharing their debut EP sometime in May and recently offered a new single called “Palaces” that documents the cruel avenues of loss and survival in our turbulent times. The track starts off slowly, guitars chiming and drums bustling along our periphery, before growing into a force of nature, shearing away anything in its path. There’s a sense of catharsis here, as if the band were exorcising unwanted demons and heartbreaking memories. You’re quickly drawn in and subsumed by the band’s rhythmic dynamism, and their ability to construct such a tactile world around these sounds.
Directed and edited by Elzinga, the accompanying video finds the band occupying a low-lit sprawl bathed in blue and red hues, draped in fog, and surrounded by a group of people whose instinct is to dance. But even among this gathering of people, the images presented evoke a sense of isolation and mourning, as if we were witnessing some sort of mutated wake or memorial. It’s a perfect visual representation of the music and acts as a expressive canvas on which we can paint in the details from our own personal experiences.
“The song embraces the sorrow of loss and powerlessness felt when you lose someone close to you,” Rex explains. “It raises the questions of how to continue on with life and survive without them.”
