MG - The Third Chimpanzee EP (EP) - 45RPM Azure Blue Vinyl

Martin Gore’s Third Chimpanzee arrives like a weather front, rolling in with metallic clouds and sudden flashes of colour. Released on 29 January 2021 through Mute under his MG moniker, this five-track EP finds the Depeche Mode songwriter immersing himself in feral, wordless electronics that feel both ancient and brand new. The concept is neat and quietly clever. Each track takes the name of a primate, a nod to Jared Diamond’s The Third Chimpanzee, and Gore has said he built many of these sounds from his own voice, bent out of shape until it stops sounding human. That idea lands immediately. These pieces move and breathe like animals.

Mandrill, the lead single from late 2020, is the clenched-jaw entry point. It thuds along on distorted percussion and a serrated lead, like a machine learning to snarl. The pads that swell behind it feel almost ecclesiastical, a reminder that Gore’s melodic instincts never sleep, even when he is bearing his teeth. Howler is heavier again, a slow, stalking march where synths cry out like nocturnal calls echoing off canyon walls. The low end is a proper gut massage, the sort of physical bass that makes The Third Chimpanzee vinyl an easy recommendation if you want to feel the room shake a little.

Capuchin offers a brighter kind of mischief. Sequencers skip and tumble, the rhythm section popping in little syncopated bursts that suggest quick hands and watchful eyes. It is not cheerful in a pop sense, just more agile, less monolithic. Vervet leans into shimmer and space, its tones clean and bell-like, with a melody that edges toward melancholy. Gore never shouts his themes, he sketches them, so you get the sense of personality without a single lyric. The closer, Howler’s End, is a lovely coda, a slow burn that drifts toward stillness. After all that sinew and grit, it feels like dawn after a storm.

Gore tracked this at his home studio in Santa Barbara during 2020, and the isolation shows in the best way. Everything sounds deliberate. He gives his synths air around the edges, then lets distortion smear the centre like charcoal. You can hear his long relationship with texture at work, the way he stacks harshness against beauty so they don’t cancel each other out. The lineage back to Depeche Mode is obvious if you listen for it, but MG is a different room in the same house. No vocals, no verse and chorus, just mood and motion. It plays like a suite, which suits an EP’s shorter arc.

Critics clocked the ambition and the bite. Coverage from the usual places highlighted the vocal-as-instrument angle and the muscular production, and fans slid it into the lineage of Gore’s 2015 MG album and his earlier instrumental work. What makes this one stick is the clarity of its world. You don’t need the track titles to feel the animal heat, but once you see them, it is hard to un-hear the paws and pupils and pulsing breath. That is a neat trick for music built from wires and electricity.

On a good system the details bloom. Reverbs feel like actual rooms, delays tuck in just behind the beat, and those mangled vocal timbres flicker at the edge of recognition. It is music to turn up and sit with. If you are crate digging, MG vinyl tends to be pressed nicely, and this is the sort of record that comes alive as a 12 inch. Shops that specialise in electronic and industrial bits often file MG albums on vinyl near the Depeche Mode section, which is a hint. If you are in a Melbourne record store on a Saturday and spot that vivid simian cover, grab it. If you are browsing from the couch, it is easy to buy MG records online in Australia, and there is no shame in searching for vinyl records Australia to find a reliable local. The EP’s dynamic range and bass weight make it a sturdy system tester without feeling clinical.

Third Chimpanzee is not a detour, it is a statement of purpose. Gore keeps chasing timbre and tension, and across these five pieces he makes instrumentals that feel lived in, a little dangerous, and unexpectedly emotive. The theme could have been a gimmick. Instead it becomes a way of hearing the blend of instinct and intellect that has always powered his work. For anyone ticking through MG albums on vinyl and filling the gaps, this one earns its spine space.