Norms are a Hungarian hardcore band that have fully realized the revolutionary potential of the cowbell. They now neither fear the reaper, nor the oaky tone of the cowbell’s muted toll.
It may sound like I’m joking when I say this, but I really don’t think any band has managed to weaponize this particular article of percussion in the same what as Norms have on their latest 12-inch, Háború és fű, but I’m not, and I honestly kind of believe it.
Is it too much to call Norms’s wiggly, blunderbuss discharge of angular Born Against riffs, F.O.D. flagging scattershot energy, cowbell-core? … Actually, yes. Especially since the most gratifying aspect of Norms sound is not their perfect application of one of progressive rock’s most enduring cliches, but rather, how hard and fast they can play while maintaining a coherent sense of rhythm and melody.
Tracks like “Kormányhivatal” give the impression that you’re strapped down in a freight car traveling too fast along the tracks of a mountain, rounding each corner with the grace of a rusted mining cart, and bringing the car you’re trapped in to the verge of somersaulting off the tracks and into the gapping ravine below.
Less epic, but still as potent, Lárma” has plenty of rubbernecked guitars that will leave some handsome, swollen welts on your ear canal as they pass through. “Lassú emberek” features a busy, surfy riff, belly sliding on the surface of a razor-rimmed, tempestuous groove, while closer “Miről szól” opens with a woozy, bad-granola groove, that slinks below increasingly discordant layers of dagger-fisted grooves and gnashing percussion, only to emerge again, once it’s gone completely feral, just in time to meet its demise in the reverb afterburn of the outro. – NEW NOISE MAGAZINE