Somewhere in the essence of confusion and predatorial motives, Let The Children Scream is NGHTCRWLR’s step out into the blackened and foreboding night in search of a victim. She lands a direct connection with the introductory track, “Bolt (RIP Miss Maryam 999)” which is more a creeping pulse rather than any outright attack. The soft vocals that come from the distorted voice from Esfandiari almost sound as if the humanity is seeping out by the second. As she begins to shout louder and the instrumental grows into a tornado of noise that overtakes the listener, the animosity can begin.
“Let The Children Scream” as a track is an uncomfortable shift into a cramped, isolated, and constructed chamber with the thought of misery in mind. But the entire experience on the record is not always built on pain, moments like “Shine!” are revitalizations with dreamy instrumentation that extends from the hands of a boom-snap percussive beat and these whirls of what relates to children’s screams of excitement, not pain. Just how quickly that changes when the track floods into the punch of “Candyman” with a kicking instrumental to crack off the second half of the album.
Every second on Let The Children Scream makes the listener feel as if they are under attack and constantly being hunted. From the otherworldly appearance that Esfandiari dawns or the slasher movie sounds that slide from behind, NGHTCRWLR wants to hunt you down.