Grave Goods – Tuesday. Nothing Exists

Photo credit Elle Brotherhood

Featuring current and former members of PINS, GIRLS NAMES, and SEPTEMBER GIRLS, minimal post punk trio GRAVE GOODS has been stirring up ears and plaudits with their singles and a live presence which has seen the band play with the likes of BEAK>, HEALTH, and JON SPENCER & THE HITMAKERS as well as an array of festivals in Ireland and the UK. Now the band unleash debut album, Tuesday. Nothing Exists, a release which proves why such the growing fuss around them and that anything you may have heard is only a hint to their predacious prowess.

Based between Manchester, Belfast and Dublin, GRAVE GOODS is a band which sculpts tension and provocative challenge with a sound evoking seventies post punk aligned to minimalist and noise kilned rock. It kind of embraces the evocative spaces woven by Young Marble Giants, the dispute moodiness of Lady Lynch, and emotive ferocity of Au Pairs but their sound is a manipulative incitement quickly stamping down its uniqueness. It is a trespass of body and thought which provokes and confronts and as Tuesday. Nothing Exists proves is an addictive inflaming of the senses.

The band cast a visceral incitement, a trespass in word and sound which allows no assumption or apathetic reaction to find a place before it. Lyrically, the record was inspired by guitarist/vocalist Lois Macdonald’s love of Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre; the connection she found with it brought to the idea that “everything is pointless so everything has complete meaning, and only you know what that is for you.” As instantly revealed by album opening Come, it is an exploration aligned to a sound equally as uneasy and disturbing in its intrusive rapacity. Instantly the song is a churning up of one’s security, the rhythmic baiting of drummer Sarah Grimes soaked in toxic resonance and soon matched by the surges of guitar and the intermittent to persistent nagging growl of Phil Quinn’s bass. All the while vocals bring their dilemma to the urgently addictive encounter too, our instinct for such raw yet clinical provocation soon finding itself aflame.

The angular lure and provocation of the track is matched within the constant individuality of the album’s songs, the following Source enticing ears with sonic beckoning before dynamic rhythms brings their own orchestration of the senses to match those of Macdonald in word and guitar. Challenging the narratives that have been pushed on us such as with gender, the song does not take no for an answer, its voracious touch and insurgence, further driven by the bass, gloriously and uncomfortably predatory.

Miles takes an instant grip with its belligerent swing, again resistance was futile before its rhythmic carnality; the corporeal incitement conjured by Grimes and Quinn alone a skin burrowing addiction. The controlled but feral honed strands of guitar and vocal contemplation only increase the compelling confrontation of the track and a greed for more which None fed with its specific aggravation of craft and thought. As within all tracks, there is a nagging monotony to the rhythmic compulsion shared, and again the seed for our unbridled attention and contemplation of its lyrical incitement.

A shamanic rhythmic lure brings the haunting presence of Story into view next, its dark noir hued air Bauhaus –esque and even more pronounced when dilemma soaked eruptions from the guitar enflame Macdonald’s minimal clad words casting vocatively poetic thought. Menace and enthralment collude in the pleasure found with Eneeway stoking its own personal lust within us soon after through it’s off kilter pulses and brooding bass mumble alongside sonic persecution.

Die completes the release, calmly walking through ears but with a tenebrific breath to its air and light. A tempest lies in its belly and heart though, sonic disturbance erupting through Macdonald’s guitar but one just as keen to embrace scorched melodic enterprise and fiery contagion loaded virulence. A cathartic release of sound and tension, the track is a striking end to an equally stunning release.

So yes, the murmur around GRAVE GOODS is as true as it is eager but still only a hint to the darkly bracing and abrading magnificence of Tuesday. Nothing Exists.

Tuesday. Nothing Exists is out now via TULLE; available digitally and on limited edition transparent red vinyl @  

Pete RingMaster 06/09/2022

Copyright RingMaster Review

Categories: Music

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