Bristol art-rock quartet, Sans Froid, will be on the radar of those that enjoyed the breakthrough success of Wet Leg and those that believe ninety-nine percent of the world’s music is crap, and the other one percent is Radiohead (to quote from Ricky Gervais). In other words, not the type of music that Scream Blast Repeat would prioritise. But we like our Björk records and appreciate small doses of math rock, and we’ll analyse anything with progressive musical dimensions. So, is the hype justified?
The jagged funk of opener, ‘Go On’, bounces like a marsupial as vocalist, Aisling Trafford, glistens with an eloquent lullaby voice. It’s easy to forget the loud thrust of the bass and sharp guitar lines in this blissful dream. The noisy jazz fusion solo leading up to the declaration, “I must be nervous/ I’m overthinking again,” feels as odd as a Frank Zappa modulation. Hark how the band make the instruments follow the onomatopoeia of the words in the transition to the finale. ‘Pros & Constants’ operates with the same bounce, yet you can hear a darker atmosphere lingering in the background. The guitar distortion adds an extra layer of angst as Charlie Barnes locates the intervals in the borderlands of melody and discordance.
You can understand the appeal of this record. The luscious vocal harmonies built around the dissonant guitar notes of ‘Still Thinking’ are stunning because it should be impossible find melody in them. Listen how the math rock leads them into the serene meadow of The Sundays with Trafford drawing from her falsetto register for the delicate moments. Admittedly, the dry guitar tone of ‘Back into the Womb’ will take some getting used to for rock fans, but the sludgy bass grooves are easy to absorb.
A playful shadow boxing approach is often enough to hide the possibility of open violence that sometimes rears its head in this music. Observe how the minimalist piano accents of ‘Sorbet’ guide Trafford’s voice as it flutters like a butterfly in the barley fields. Its outcome is like Radiohead toying with the lo-fi Fiona Apple compositions that received so much approbation from The New York Times and The Guardian over the last few years.
“How long until you reach the top of your self-proclaimed mountain?” declares Trafford in ‘Menorabilia’. It’s not a men-hating diatribe, but more of a need for space after spending so much time among male company. How she stays in this sugary dream pop voice for the entire three minutes is the triumph here. But the group don’t always get it right. The soaring vocals in ‘Of the Mother’ dominate the action and leave you asking if you can remember any of the musical dimensions. ‘Bags Packed’ is what happens when fluffy indie rock tries to recreate the brilliance of The Sugarcubes and then realises it needs something other than smiles to reach the finish line.
Back into the Womb needs a second and third listen to appreciate its full potential. The open letter of hatred addressed to the Spotify CEO in ‘The Exploiter of Art’ is understandable, and it makes sense for them to go heavier here with less concern for inserting the beautiful vocal oscillations that define their other songs. Delivering the vitriol in a sweet sentimental voice produces a clever contrast here that Björk would be proud to own. “Feel the damage to my lungs / Bow my head and catch the sun / So the yearning has begun / You’re the only one that feels like home / A thorn among the roses I’ve become,” laments Trafford in a sorrowful but sugary voice in closing track, ‘Thorns’. The unorthodox piano movements and warm breath of the vocals offer an intimacy that seldom connects with the listener in music of this nature. Rock fans should listen to Back into the Womb for this reason alone.
Kirk Houghton
Verdict
Release Date: 26/06/2026
Record Label: Church Road Records
Standout tracks: Go On; Still Thinking; The Exploiter of Art
Suggested Further Listening: Radiohead – In Rainbows (2007), Bent Knee – Say So (2016), Boris – W (2022)