Santo Gold

Melody-averse and largely instrumental, Santo Gold seems much more experimental on paper than it sounds on disc. Even without vocal hooks, though, the group remains strangely accessible. It’s a short-lived spell — these cryptic tunes are almost impossible to memorize, even after several listens — but while they’re playing, the songs’ lull-and-roar dynamics are often absorbing.

It’s encouraging that Santo Gold doesn’t really need singing, hand-clap percussion or a driving chorus, because it struggles when trying to incorporate these elements. When Dalin Horner’s voice first appears, two minutes into the second track, his conversational style seems stunningly artless compared with the intricately tangled tonal tapestry in the backdrop. Eventually, though, the frontman’s leisurely, laconic pacing and the mild, meandering guitars join comfortably. Similarly, the group’s rock riffs enter inauspiciously, like a pedestrian intrusion into the ethereal soundscapes. But toward the end of the EP, Santo Gold learns to harness the guitars’ power without letting them commandeer the compositions.