Failure has rarely sounded this triumphant. On "Better Failing", Nic Krog - Danish-born, Berlin-based, and allergic to musical straightjackets - reclaims collapse as a creative force. If their earlier "Reproaching the Absurd" twisted existential dread into abrasive soundscapes, this new EP leans into the rubble with a sly grin, guided by the philosophy of Jack Halberstam’s "The Queer Art of Failure". Instead of chasing perfection, Krog revels in the cracks, glitches, and derailments, making joy out of the wreckage.

The record unfolds like a five-part play in which the protagonist keeps tripping over their shoelaces, only to turn the pratfall into choreography. Opener "Not Your Night" pretends it’s headed for the club, then veers into aleatoric jazz chaos, as if the dancefloor itself lost its balance. "Parasite" hijacks that momentum with Jeremy Coubrough’s saxophone skronk and Krog’s deadpan delivery, a duet of irritation and delight. By "You Do You", reggaeton beats meet factory clatter - romance between bodily rhythm and mechanical whirr, mocking the very idea of “desirable desires”.

"Win" ups the ante: reel-to-reel tape noise masquerades as a guitar solo, pounding bass propels everything forward, and suddenly the EP feels like a manifesto written in feedback. The title track, "Better Failing", ties it all together - a mutant anthem where dancehall, no wave, and rave don’t coexist so much as they collapse into one another, spinning disorientation into exhilaration.

Krog’s real sleight of hand is to turn failure into a texture, a compositional principle, even a groove. You don’t just hear the collapse; you dance with it, you laugh with it, you recognize yourself in its awkward contortions. The result is a paradoxical victory lap disguised as an EP: a short, jagged celebration of imperfection that feels oddly liberating in its refusal to get it right.

It’s called "Better Failing", but really, it’s about the art of failing better - and, by the end, realizing you’re not failing at all.