“The best part of being yourself is that you can’t do it wrong.”
There simply isn’t another outfit quite like Kaonashi, who seemingly haven’t stopped grinding since the early 2020s. Having delivered two full-length albums and two EPs during that span, they tend to catch virality when the moment is right. At this point, their reputation precedes them as a band that really needs to be heard to be believed. They have been weaving a web-like discography with a career-spanning, interconnected storyline that aids in crafting several deeper layers to sink one’s teeth into. In this latest offering, I Want To Go Home, the ever-spiralling chronicles of recurring characters Taylor, Jackie, and Jamie continue in gut-wrenching fashion as the stench of death weighs heavily in the canonical air.
Addressing the immediate ‘elephant in the room’ (no, not the song, not yet anyway), the attention-sink that first-time listeners tend to gravitate towards is that of Peter Rono’s unorthodox vocal meltdown. This heavily favours a more true-to-life, realistic portrayal of emotion than the more common death growl. Alas, this is old news to us – it’s been said before, and it will no doubt be repeated that this is the bar of entry for a good amount of listeners trying out Kaonashi for the first time. If you dig it then you’ll love everything else, however, if you hate it this is probably where you hop off the ride. More relevantly, the way in which Rono both wields and writes for his trademark shrieks and cries particularly shines this time around, perfectly emulating the emotionally vulnerable state of newly traumatised youth, whilst frequently dishing out some genuinely profound proverbs; a slam poetry workshop with a mathcore backing band.
Whilst remaining steadfast in their depictions of generational trauma and self-sabotage, previous efforts in the Kaonashi camp often contain an element of silliness to them in order to cushion the crushing weight of their true subject matter. I Want To Go Home., however, presents a tonal shift that leans firmly into the agonising rumination of it’s cast. With pleasantries out of the way, it’s nigh impossible to ignore the oscillating peaks and valleys of the opening duo “Confusion In A Car Crash” / “Fairmount Park After Dark”. Not even Peter’s frantic yelps nor Piantini Toribio of NEWCOMER’s accompanying croaks can take away from their stupefying grandiosity. The listener is treated to an instrumental feast even more eccentric and theatrical than one is accustomed to on the average Kaonashi track, with swirling axework more akin to a progressive or melodic outfit yet still snapping into place unquestioned as a part of the band’s greater construct.
Nothing lasts forever, though. Throughout the course of the album, the dominant soundscape gradually sheds this calculated exterior, revealing its blemishes and vulnerabilities of its protagonist Taylor Oxford as they spill forth their perspective of the catalyst of the Lemon House storyline. Slight stylistic shifts occur on nearly every song, edging us increasingly closer to the emo mathcore we’re more familiar with. Single number two “When I Say” and melodic groover “Fly On The Wall (An Orange Sidewalk Paved Around Your Feet)” find one dancing through and singing along to harmonised alt-rock choruses, courtesy of guitarist Alex Hallquist. Follow-up single “Red Sink, Yellow Teeth” turns heads toward dilapidated nu metal riffs alongside distressing Korn-esque leads. “Slower Forms of Suicide” utilises stomach churning choral accompaniment amid blastbeat-backed tremolo; this would almost be black metal if it weren’t for Mr. Rono’s best impression of Elmo’s midlife crisis piercing the mix (in the best way possible). All the while, the listener is fed little self-referential callbacks and recurring motifs throughout, including but not limited to the occasional resurfacing of the chilling melody from opener “Confusion In A Car Crash”.
Little things like this are part of the reason why Kaonashi’s concept pieces are known for their attention to detail as if bound by the hip to their stories – a muffled news broadcast hiding in the background here, the brain-itching taps of a late 2000s iPhone keyboard sending a long-winded text message there. It’s a wonder they’re able to squeeze all of this worldbuilding in when the average song length clocks in around the two to three minute mark, but that’s where our final stretch comes in. Heeded by the aforementioned taps at the tail end of “Elephant In The Room (If You Can Keep A Secret)”, “The Sanguine” subseries marks an emerging staple of the Kaonashi full-length in which its climax comes in the form of a several parter of variable length titled according to the album’s protagonist (established with Lemon House’s “The Underdog” series and funnily enough teased by a line of action figures sold by the band).
“The Sanguine” serves as a total breakdown of Taylor Oxford’s rapidly declining emotional and mental state, featuring some of the weirder and mathier songwriting on the album as they blame themselves and others for the tragedy that kicked the album off. By now, we’re well accustomed to the fact that getting weird with it almost always pays off with this band, so the sudden synths and spoken word bass solo duets don’t go amiss. Much like a Coheed and Cambria bookender, you can take these tracks as a suite or enjoy them piecemeal. The perpetual self-awareness of Kaonashi’s approach plays so well into the format.
Make no mistake, when you string it all together, I Want To Go Home. is a proggy mathcore album with mallcore aesthetics, except for when it isn’t. Circling back around to the front half of the album we find a curveball in “Extra Prayers” which offers exposition over a stimulating fingerstyle guitar-driven math rock instrumental. And of course, who could forget our sequel – tucked deep within the depths of another sequel – the fourth part of “The Sanguine” and the seventh entry in the staple “Exit” series is worthy of its own spiel. Whilst Lemon House’s “The Underdog II: Fight On The 40 Yard Line, What’s That In Kilometers?” has the acoustic ballad covered, “The Sanguine IV – Exit Pt. VII (The Confession of Classroom 2114)” commits harder, opting to close the book with a bit of self-indulgent melancholy packaged up in a grippingly cinematic form factor. From Peter Rono grieving over a twinkling piano to an increasingly heated monologue section passing the vocal torch over to Hallquist, touching down on a particularly emo chorus, the final chapter leaves you depressively obsessed. Like the bittersweet ending of an excellent movie that sticks with you months after watching, the goosebumps form as the “Car Crash” melody creeps back in to lend an almost perfect loop to the album’s end.
I Want To Go Home. is without a doubt Kaonashi at their most realised and polished. They take all the time and room they could possibly need for musical worldbuilding and character study. This comes through an expulsion of grief so palpable that the industry’s biggest sadboys should frankly be jealous of the angst on display, making for what is quite possibly the band’s most gripping and definitive entry to date. I’d have to be really stretching to find almost anything to complain about with this record, except that it’s the most ‘Kaonashi’ release, to a fault – it will be challenging all listeners and likely won’t be convincing any sceptics. It really is an impressive feat given their current track record and recent accolades. As always when it comes to Rono & The Gang, the future is paved well in advance and the seed is sown for entries far down the road – but for now, I Want To Go Home. confidently captures Kaonashi’s keenness to keep pushing the goalpost for heavy music and the immersive experiences that they can incorporate in the modern era.
9/10
I Want To Go Home will be released via Equal Vision Records on Friday, June 6th and can be pre-ordered here.