NAPALM-Muzik might be a remix album but you can almost disregard this fact completely.
It’s a reimagining, a parallel universe, self-referential in the way that would only work with such a strong foundation. However, this sequel is the necessary destructive balance – the food fight sequence that accompanies a decadent banquet.
In her debut EatMyHell in 2024, we were introduced to Mona’s world: tender, theatrical and romantic. Released exactly a year later, down to the day, NAPALM- Muzik serves as a reminder that a lot can happen in a year. NAPALM is the nihilistic sibling, throwing us sample after sample – error sounds, laughter, sirens, synths that drive like turning cogs – and an overall sense that something is very different this time around. Mona’s finding a new world that feels more her own: a little more steampunk, a touch destructive and nothing like anything you’ve heard already. Featured on the album are also some frequent, returning, and long-awaited fellow Sydney collaborations: Swann, FREDDY, SLEEPR, 198Archie, and Maschinenkrieger.
A lot of the fun of NAPALM-Muzik comes from the way tracks bleed into one another, and you will be rewarded for indulging an uninterrupted listen. Particularly in the first half which has little to no shy fades, rather in favour of demanding, unapologetic and irreverent samples. The album opens with the best singles. The title track injects the necessary sleaze and humour (thank you SWANN) that lines the backdrop for the rest of the release, with ‘Eat-URHell’ taking a brief and tasteful turn into post-hardcore and emo.
One of the unique highlights of a remix album is pairing a current feature with past: ‘CRANK-Demon’ feels like the ideal of this, with echoes of CeliaHearts rippled throughout SLEEPR’s new feature. The first third of ‘PINKY’ comes up for air with 198archie, before diving back in. Mona’s play with cadence and intonation feels like the sincerity that made it through it all.
For EatMyHell, Mona was inspired by Pipilotti Rist’s ‘Sip My Ocean’ exhibition, “It felt like you were walking through a space she had lived in … it wasn’t very concrete, it was just this wash of personal experience and delving into someone’s mind without being super explicit about what it was.” NAPALM feels much the same, however with cracks in the rose-tinted glasses. It’s hard to know exactly what it means (and you don’t need to know), only that things have changed.
NAPALM-Muzik is like tuning a radio, surfing channels, walking through an arcade, the sounds that seep through the cracks in the wall when you walk past rehearsal rooms. It’s the true iteration of its former. The final boss. Though maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. This is only the sophomore release.
Words by Rhea Thomas