Stoor – Fleam

Though addictions are triggered early on they seem to put on truly inescapable nagging shackles over time but there is one for us which was immediate, thickly gripping and has just squeezed the life out of free will ever since and that is the new album from Scottish outfit Stoor. Admittedly the seeds had been sown and blossomed already for the Dundee quartet’s unique sound through their 2015 uncaged self-titled debut album but a craving Fleam has now escalated to all devouring heights. Like the last and first thought around sleep will be of a true if maybe unattainable love, right now our every musical urge starts and ends with Stoor.

It is hard to believe that Stoor is still not a band eagerly on the lips of thick waves of indie, rock, and post punk fans after their striking first full-length but surely a puzzle going to be solved through the aberrantly extraordinary Fleam. Again bred in a sound which has echoes and inspirations of seventies/eighties post punk and rawer new wave antics, Fleam has discovered a whole new level of virulence in the hooks, melodies, and imagination which made up its predecessor. It is a mischievously multi-flavoured experience though which leaves predictability and expectations barren on the kerbside of its compelling adventure.

Released through Stereogram Recordings who are ever reliable to bring fascinating proposals to the ears, Fleam opens with the appetite securing instrumental simply called Stoor Theme. As the album’s title represents, the band’s fresh sound strikes at the heart and cuts through the thick, wasteful but deceptive excesses which fatten the success and manipulate the common ear into providing undeserved attention and through the simple but incisive groove ‘n’ roll of its initial offering makes the first hook loaded score.

It is an imagination sparking, body twisting coaxing quickly matched in craft and temptation by successor, Pain. Instantly there is an air of sonic vexation from which a bold and boisterous stroll swings forth wrapped in the wiry enterprise of guitarists Ross Matheson and Davie Young whilst driven by the tenacious rhythms of drummer Scott McKinlay and bassist Stef Murray. The track was soon scooping up lusty attention and even more so as it twisted through a great and devilish pop infested post punk escapades within its undiluted rock ‘n’ roll. With Murray’s lead vocals just as magnetic and persuasive to participation, the track easily stole the passions.

It is a success soon shared across Fleam starting with the pair of Lovebombing and Dig. The first comes equipped with danger and threat as well as another dose of pure musical contagion that infests ears and instincts. Nurtured in punk ‘n’ roll ferocity and armed with a lyrical prowess which grips as effortlessly as the feral sounds surrounding it, the track simply enslaved before the second of the two sauntered in and exploded in a flame of melodic discord and eccentric invention. With a breath akin to The Nightingales in league with Television Personalities to it, the track burrowed under the skin laying bait and temptation which for just over two minutes feasted on any possible resistance to its esurient endeavour.

Ark follows, its opening lure loaded croon posted in a dusty mono background before eventually leaping through ears with Murray’s tones riding its undisturbed stride. Within, the primal edge to his bass is just as appetising but equally so are the strands of sonic thread igniting the senses courtesy of the rapaciously enterprising guitars; it all seemingly imposing greater temptation as the track’s volatility ignites and erupts in a predatory trespass.

Dancing around as the world crumbles, new single Atrocities is next and immediately has the body bouncing and imagination flirting with its XTC/ Orange Juice-esque celebration bred in a Fire Engines tuned jangle cast amidst the howl of windy discordance and apocalyptic corruptions. Haunting and rousing from its first sonic rattle, its uninhibited dust finally settles as the adventurous exploits of Agags Groove steps forth. As ever the persistently captivating and manipulative beats of McKinlay steer an inescapable quest for band and listener, the instrumental simply a web of intimation and temptation spanning past decades of flavouring woven into its own unique espionage.

McKinlay is even more a puppeteer within Founding Father, straight away directing body movement with provocative craft which soon invites guitars and bass to add their own similarly devious ideation and touch. Celestial melodies subsequently escape to expand the fascination and draw of another sublimely delicious moment within Fleam, the track as seductive as it is a cauldron of disquiet and dark suggestion before the following Unlike Them brings a declaration of defiance, anarchy and musical insurrection to bear on an apathetic landscape.

The album concludes with the incendiary magnificence of Chivers; a tapestry of rhythmic stalking, carnivorous basslines, and melodic friction united in irresistible incitement further loaded by thought grabbing vocals. Lure and challenge, a term which can be applied to the whole of the release, the song is unapologetic slavery and a glorious close to the album, its mercurial but always agitational and rousing body pure inspirational pleasure.

If Stoor had been there helping drive the Scottish post punk/postcard scene way back they would be cited as an inspiration for so many just as Orange Juice, The Fire Engines, and Josef K but do not confuse that suggestion with thoughts that the band is not one of music’s most fresh and exciting propositions right now and with releases like Fleam you can be sure they will be inspiring the creativity in numerous propositions to come.

Fleam is released on white and black vinyl, CD, and download via Stereogram Recordings March 30th across numerous online stores including https://stoor1.bandcamp.com/ with a special album launch show at Dundee’s Beat Generator Live! the release night.

https://www.facebook.com/stoormusic/   https://twitter.com/STOOR44   http://www.stereogramrecordings.co.uk/artists/stoor/

Pete RingMaster 26/03/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Sofy Major – Total Dump

Sofy Major is a leviathan of sound and trespass which persistently erupts from a noise fuelled creative lair with releases which for us have pretty much left contemporaries in their tempest and turbulence. Three previous albums have as good as decimated the prowess and adventure of other ear rewarding encounters around at the time and with Total Dump, the French trio has done it again Their new full-length is in many ways their most accessible and flirtatious offering yet but equally their most voracious and imposing not forgetting irresistible slab of noise and hardcore infested, metal lined rock ‘n’ roll.

The successor to the outstanding Waste of 2015, which itself eclipsed the thrilling Idolize unleashed two years earlier, the Dave Curran (UNSANE, Big Business) produced Total Dump is a contagion of abusive yet flirtatious noise and bruising but virulently captivating force and imagination. It is predatory irritable rock ‘n’ roll from start to finish with an eager taste in contagious and invasive enterprise. Opening up with its title track, the album immediately reveals its bestial side, the track prowling the senses with the carnivorous claws of Mathieu Moulin’s bass locked onto the senses as his more welcoming vocals align with the raw flames and tendrils of Thomas Dantil’s guitar. It is a preying of ears and imagination which never diminishes in threat and temptation however it evolves, a trespass driven by the menacing swings of drummer Mathieu Desternes that equally escalate in infernal virulence and captivation as individual and united enterprise breeds fresh twists and sonic commination.

The compelling start is only accentuated, indeed built upon by next up Giant Car Crash; a collision with the senses which had us bouncing as much as cowering before its flirtatious and barbarous intent. Voraciously feral and inhumanly infectious, the track devoured body and passions with unquenchable hunger leading to lustful responses before Cream It uncages its rapacious crawl to trespass the senses and melodic irreverence to seduce an already greedy appetite. The kind of proposition which offers a warm welcome whilst ruining the foundations to your sanity, the glorious track is a manipulative mix of viral noise with an appetite for clamorous untamed pop.

As the ravenously viral rock punk ‘n roll throes of Strike and the post punk embracing devilry of The Jerk infested and seduced ears with unruly dexterity, Total Dump just stretched its landscape of esurient intent and fevered invention. Both tracks are as mercilessly catchy as they are unapologetically invasive, that greater accessibility to the band’s sound in full bloom just as much its acclaimed creative villainy is merciless, and traits just as thrilling within next up Shinny Happy Asshole, a venomously swinging, deviously contagious but inescapably corruptive slice of unscrupulous enterprise.

Through the slow hunt of the senses that is Franck Butthole; a cancer of sound which just ignites the imagination, and the unbroken antics of Tumor O Rama it is impossible to say attention and pleasure wavered, the total opposite in truth up against their combined sonic punk infection fuelled scourges while Kerosine Mike n turn just trapped and enslaved with ursine-esque power and intimidation whilst brewing up its own melodically toxic strain of bewitching rock ‘n’ roll.

Completed by the senses ravishing, violently bouncing exploits of Panamarama, it one the album’s most magnificent moments, and the sonically consumptive, caustically alluring tempest of The Longest Yard, there was and is no diminishing of the ardour we bred and hold for Total Dump. Without any doubt despite the glories of the past, it provides the greatest, most thrilling time with Sofy Major yet but also is set to send a shiver through the world of noise in any form as those within wonder how they can compete with its voracious triumph.

Total Dump is out now via Deadlight Records on CD and Antena/Corpse Flower on Vinyl.

http://www.sofymajor.com   https://www.facebook.com/sofymajor

Pete RingMaster 30/01/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

She Made Me Do It – Drenched

pic by @dcmusicvideos

There is nothing better than an encounter which immediately enthrals attention and appetite but is only scratching at the depths of temptation and adventure within. The Drenched EP from She Made Me Do It is one such offering; a release which instantly had ears pricked and the body bouncing but was just revealing the seeds to blossoming levels of imagination and seduction.

The four track release is another in a long line of rich enticement from the duo of Shaheena Dax (Rachel Stamp) and Will Crewdson (Rachel Stamp, Adam Ant, Scant Regard, The Selecter, Bow Wow Wow, Flesh For Lulu) and one of the pairs’ most deviously tempting offerings. From start to finish it is a magnetic almost teasing fusion of dark shadows and elegant radiance bound in an equally rich mix of punk, new wave, post punk and alternative rock adventure. The successor to their 2017 album, The Frantic Legion, the compelling exploits of Drenched sees the band’s sound even more defined yet bolder in its adventure and tapestry of flavours. Through the captivation and intimation of Dax’s golden yet often almost portentously lined vocals and the descriptive yet rousingly tenacious antics of Crewdson’s guitar to the suggestive caresses and intriguing shimmers of their keys, She Made Me Do It create a captivating web to immerse in and dance with.

Produced by Crewdson and with Joe Holweger providing drums, Drenched opens up with the swiftly irresistible Bones. Straightaway post punk tendrils escape Crewdson’s guitar, their clinging hues something akin to the claws cast in the past by the likes of Leitmotiv and Sex Gang Children. Escalating these lures by the second, the track builds into a lumbering but lively stroll where Dax soon springs her own potent temptation as bass and drums steer the dark throes of the song’s canter; the punk hues of guitar only adding to its anthemic and equally predacious swing. Inescapably infectious but with that great edge of danger and intimidation, the song, as indeed the EP, needed a mere play to get under the skin and only burrowing, deeper and deeper thereon in.

The following Broken Morning is a just as skilful manipulator of ears and appetite even as it instantly reveals a much warmer and calmer nature. That is no chain to an instinctive catchiness and creative eagerness though, the song devilishly impossible to resist joining in with especially when faced with one contagion laded chorus and again a swinging energy which enlivens the body and spirit of song and listener alike. There is something, if right now indefinably, familiar to the track but a hue which only adds to its compelling design and persuasion.

Ashes is next up, electronic pulses gently but firmly resonating before the dirtier breath of the bass joins up quickly followed by the similarly beckoning strains of guitar and voice. A song which relishes its electro pop instincts as fully as its rock ‘n’ roll heart, it offers a tapestry of flavours and creative twists, all as unpredictable as the track is unsurprising in its voracious zeal and stirring enterprise.

The release ends with the melodically celestial beauty of Time, a song of intimate and spatial elegance over an earthbound spine that just as easily ignites the imagination as the siren-esque flight above.  It is a hauntingly mesmeric conclusion to a release which as we said just grows more impressive and tantalisingly by the listen. It is a heavier, more guitar driven rocker than predecessors but equally richer in its melodic and broad weave of flavours and adventure; a must in anyone’s book.

The Drenched EP is out February 1st on Catranstic Records with pre-ordering available @ https://shemademedoit.bandcamp.com/album/drenched-e-p and https://shemmdi.com/store

 

https://www.shemmdi.com/   https://www.facebook.com/shemademedoitpage   https://twitter.com/SheMMDI

Pete RingMaster 30/01/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

System Of Hate -There Is No Madness Here

The world may be on a downward spiral to destruction guided by the corruption of humanity but it is also spawning some glorious reactions along the way and maybe none as thrilling as the second album from UK outfit System Of Hate. Part commentary, part serenade to apocalyptic horizons, There Is No Madness Here is a tenebrific tempting bred from the united breaths of punk rock and post punk, and simply one of 2018’s finest moments.

Released via Louder Than War Records a few weeks back and the successor to the band’s well-received 2016 debut, Unhallowed Ground, the ferociously compelling There Is No Madness Here is an honestly snarling, venomous contagion of sound and observation. As with their first full-length, the Barnsley hailing band has linked up with producer Matt Ellis for their latest meshuga of blackened intimation and dark punk enterprise. It roars with inescapable uniqueness yet keenly embraces the hues of bands such as Killing Joke, Angelic Upstarts, Leitmotiv, and Theatre Of Hate for a proposal as psychotically clamorous as it is skilfully woven.

There Is No Madness Here opens up with its title track, instantly enticing with a wiry guitar lure before slipping into a lively predacious prowl eagerly twisting and turning with every passing moment. Equally Dave Sutcliffe’s vocals stalk ears with lyrical suggestion as an anthemic breath fuels the whole sonic web in a proposition virtually impossible to resist participating in.

That irresistibility is an on-going tempting across the album as proven by the following pair of Black Fire and We Who Walk With God. The first is similarly portentous but with an infectious swing which lines its dark inference. The sonic lattice of Patrick Crawford’s guitar is wrapped in the similarly suggestive lure of keys cast by Martin Roberts, both aligned to the dark pulsation of esurient rhythms sprung by bassist Shaun O’Neill and drummer Carl Gulliford with vocals a raw angst lined narrative to the black infestation. The second presented an even darker and heavier trespass as it unsettled and ensnared the senses. Both tracks, as indeed all across the release, are loaded with appetite entangling hooks and acerbic melodies creating an array of temptations which needed little time to get under the skin.

In The Shadow Of The Cross teases and nags as it rises to its feet next, every tendril of guitar and caress of keys a blend of danger and enticement until the track breaks into a just as magnetic ravening canter. There is a great touch of Sex Gang Children meets 1919 to the track while there is something of an Adicts hue to the punk bred Your God Is Dead. Even so, System Of Hate’s sound is strictly individual and as virally rabid here as in the subsequent caliginous joys of Tears Of Blood, with its wolfish grooves and toxic air, and in turn within the abrasive and bracing sonic plague that is Resurrected.

The latter has the senses feeling flailed and energised; its defiance and animosity a rousing incitement matched in its own particular way driving by the raucously anthemic Rising and its fiery winds. If its predecessor was an announcement of intent, this track is the threat in full holler and again a song impossible not to get embroiled in.

The album concludes with firstly Ill Are The Cursed, a calmer melodically alluring but no less imposing and rousing proposal and finally the track System Of Hate. The closer harries and taunts ears with its sonic exploits whilst seducing with its acidic melodies and raw siren-esque vocal harmonies. It is a last incursion of sound and adventure which sums up the album’s heart and the band’s music and imagination perfectly as indeed the thrilling contagion of each aspect.

We have come to the album’s apocalypse later than others but join the call that There Is No Madness Here is and will be as relevant to the world and humanity’s decay as to post punk and punk ‘n’ roll for years to come.

There Is No Madness Here is out now via Louder Than War Records.

http://www.systemofhate.com/    https://www.facebook.com/systemofhate/   https://twitter.com/systemofhateuk

Pete RingMaster 04/01/2019

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Lady Lynch – Self Titled

Haunting to the point of being disturbing, sombrely magnetic to the edge of invasive seduction, the self-titled debut album from Austria quartet, Lady Lynch, is quite simply one of the year’s essential explorations especially if your appetite has a hunger for shadow fuelled, dangerously elegant post punk/no wave woven temptation.

Vienna hailing, Lady Lynch consists of Theresa Adamski, Philipp Forthuber, Lina Gaertner, and Christian Sundl. There is little more background wise we can tell you about the band but musically and especially with their new album, a flood of praise carrying words is unstoppable. Individual in character and imagination, their music is something akin to a fusion of The Passions, Au-Pairs, and Lydia Lunch trapped within the band’s own unique web of post punk/no wave taking in further new wave and punk hues. Across ten tracks it provides an inescapably hypnotic lure of brooding intimation and gloom cast atmospherics around riveting vocals as tendrils of sound unite their skilled monotony to seduce ears and imagination. With every listen it has become more impressive and irresistible, addiction rising by their side.

The album opens with Fundamental Friend Dependability. Rising from a sonic squall, the track swiftly drops into an espionage coated stroll, firm rhythms almost taunting ears as vocals and a cold melody entice. It took barely a rush of seconds before the song got under the skin, its sober hooks and participation inciting chorus welcome trespasses alongside the great vocals. A superb start, the track as many across the album suddenly comes to an end, almost as if the release has got bored waiting to uncage its next thrilling incitement but a conclusion which only adds to the drama and tension.

The following Cymbals initially chips away at the senses before sauntering through ears with a gnarly bordering on predatory bassline alongside steady but imposing beats. Tenebrific in many ways, darkly radiant in plenty more, the song matched its predecessor in rapacious persuasion before Schatten Island casts its black and white hued intimation. Drums again provide a bold and influential backdrop, the bass the dark drama while guitar and vocals spring cinematic adventure; it all uniting in a Gang Of Four meets Bauhaus like compulsion.

Through the metronomic swing of Ranciere, a hip manipulator with moments of corroded discord, and the chilling melodic twilight of Noon, captivation only tightened its hold though both songs are soon rivalled in magnificence by the Crispy Ambulance-esque City Falls and all are in turn eclipsed by the Athletico Spizz 80/Pylon flavoured Actors and Networks where rhythms again play the body like a puppeteer as voice and guitar toy with the imagination; it all manna for ears and appetite.

A whiff of Cauldronated accompanies the mechanised corruption that is Tiny Machine while Stairs carrying a similar scent is an escalator of passing shadows and dark contemplation. Both tracks just enthralled as too did closing track Hommage. It is the darkest moment on the album and it’s most beguiling, beauty soaking every unsettled silhouette and slim but richly evocative contour.

Within one listen we were fully ensnared by the album’s caliginous temptation and devious enterprise, its seductive disquiet just as irresistible as its invasion of the senses and thoughts. One word sums it all up, Stunning!

The Lady Lynch album is out now via Cut Surface digitally and on Ltd Ed vinyl @ https://cutsurface.bandcamp.com/album/lady-lynch-2

Pete RingMaster 01/11/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Punching Swans – Faces

If you have allowed the boisterous noise and feral enterprise of Punching Swans to trespass ears before you will not be surprised to read that as maturity and a new bold touch embraces their latest release, their cacophony of sonic devilment is just as insatiable. Faces is a collection of tracks which stalk the imagination, manipulate the senses, and send the body into blissful spasms whilst courting a whole new level of adventure with the British trio.

Bred in the ever fertile round of the Medway region of Kent, Punching Swans is the creative union of vocalist/guitarist Greg Webster (Houdini), bassist/vocalist Joseph Wise(Frau Pouch), and drummer/vocalist Pablo Paganotto (The Explorer’s Collective). Formed in 2012, apparently “as a dare”, alongside their other projects, the band has simply grown in a sound, taking on inspirations from the likes of from The Fall, Sonic Youth, Bogshed and Mclusky as well as the dark realms of John Carpenter, The League of Gentlemen and The Evil Dead films, their imagination ensnaring releases perpetually earning bigger and keener acclaim. A self-titled debut that first year was a kind of warm up for the greater exploits inside Mollusc two years later. The album reinforced the band’s inimitable sound and creative mischief but flourished as the threesome in many ways ’took things more seriously’ with the project. Its qualities and success was only eclipsed by its successor Nesting in 2016 just as its seriously impressive character and adventure has been put in the shade by Faces.

The new album’s theme is a dark and compelling proposition; the release made up of eleven faces (tracks), each referring to the faces of serial killers. As Webster explains, “They each have a stupid feature for a face which is related to their story… so people who look kinda stupid and are unlikely killers. But then again, who is a likely killer? Can you really tell by appearance? As we wrote each new song they seemed to fit into a particular image of a face and from there we wrote what their particular background story was. We were picturing a kind of Dick Tracy rogues gallery of villains. “

The album opens up with Blood Face, gradually looming up on the senses in a sonic shimmer before a raw wash of voice and sound explodes on ears. The scything beats of Paganotto pounce and swing as a sonic swash of guitar colludes with the rapaciously dark mumblings of bass, a fiercely magnetic union completed by eager vocals. Slipping melodic teasing amongst its ravenous discord, the track is a magnificent and quickly addictive start to an album which only escalated every lure heard with imagination thereon in.

The following Areola Face instantly had hips swaying and appetite’s tongue licking lustful lips as Wise’s throaty bass strolls with dark but infectious intent, a catchiness only accentuated by the more ‘violent’ animation of guitar and beats. Ebbing and flowing in its volatility, vocals following suit, the track provides a caustic flirtation before Strobe Face licks at the senses with a rapid flicker of beats and a sonic sunspot which in turn sparks a slightly corrosive but fully captivating trespass; a captivation only boosted by the singular dance of vocals and beats which escapes before things become more psychotic yet tenderly seductive.

Through the calm but predacious post punk militance of Batter Face and the reserved siren-esque psychosis of Coral Face, animated temptation richly soaked ears; Paganotto’s kinetic swings as conniving and irresistible as the intimation shredding exploits of Webster and Wise’s skilful rhythmic dark saunters, traits fuelling the whole album from start to finish. The latter of the pair has a definite Houdini meets The Fall feel before making way for the simply glorious murderous drama and inharmonious beauty of Cliff Face. Featuring Dan Toms of Bear vs Manero and the biggest treat out of nothing but, the track is simply manna for ears and spirit, unscrupulous rascality at its best.

The following pair of Grater Face and Lady Cheese Face refers to each other, the songs “Romeo and Juliet-style lovers who simply could not be.” The first is a wild slice of post punk ‘n’ roll with a personality something akin to Mclusky meets The St Pierre Snake Invasion while its companion of sorts shows a devious side to its more tamed incursion on the senses. Discordant yet with a sonic elegance which is as threatening as it is alluring, the track is a true predator of a song, getting under the skin with subtlety and flirtation before gnawing away with bloodthirsty relish.

Raw and wolfish, Carpenter Face infiltrates ears next with an almost industrial like hue to its expanding tapestry of lawless noise. A low key serenade with a portentous breeze of sonic duplicity inserts itself in the breaths between it and Face Face straight after, the piece brief and never quite breaking the surface of its limbo before the penultimate track careers in on a rhythmic canter with a sonic mane spraying in its trenchant winds.

God Face completes the release, the song a lure of shadow bound celestial scheming simultaneously  tenebrific and radiant round another simply rousing rhythmic incitement from Paganotto and Wise alongside the melodic dissonance of Webster.

It is an enthralling end to a quite superb and increasingly addictive release. Punching Swans has never been as so damn manipulative or devilishly rousing as they are within Faces. It is not only a band at its momentously best but noise rock/post punk too.

Faces is released October 26th via Skingasm Records; available now for pre-order @ https://punchingswans.bandcamp.com/album/faces

Upcoming live shows:

OCT 26th LEEDS, Chunk

OCT 27th LIVERPOOL, Invisible Wind Factory

NOV 9th LONDON, Aces & Eights

https://www.facebook.com/PunchingSwans   https://twitter.com/punchingswans

Pete RingMaster 23/10/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright

Death & The Penguin – Anomie

Four years ago contemplating and feasting on their introduction via the Accidents Happen EP, we readily declared it “one of the most exciting entrances in a long time”, further intimating that “Death and the Penguin is the next big and important thing within British rock music.”  Even with the release of the Eine Kleine Granatenmusik EP two years later that emergence turning into national attention has seemingly stalled. You can sense though a busy band they are not ones to rush things or just release something unless it is exactly at its prime. That is why their highly anticipated debut album, Anomie has brought intrigue and fears. Extended time can diminish the potency of even the finest things but certainly not in the case of the imagination and sound of the UK outfit.

Described as “off-kilter alternative rock from London”, Death & The Penguin has a sound which teases but never accepts real tagging. At times it is avant-garde in its nature, in others experimental alternative/indie rock akin to a blend of Young Knives and Baddies. In other moments it blazes with an At The Drive In like dissonance yet as proven across the twelve compelling tracks of Anomie it is only unique to the quartet of Tobias Smith (vocals/guitar), Andy Acred (bass/vocals/keys/electronics), Chris Olsen (guitar/vocals/keys), and Phil Gadsden (drums).

The fascinating radiance of Hospital Song opens things up the song a wistful embrace of melancholy and haunting beauty shared by keys and voice within a more inharmonious breeze. It is a startling start to the release, bold and brave but undoubtedly magnetic as it leads to the waiting hands of The Calving Shuffle. Simply sensational, the track has ears and appetite on board immediately with its rhythmic shuffle, guitars weaving their suggestive threads in turn as the darker pulse of the bass groans while its political scything gives extra edge to vocals and its tone, as too more post punk hued sonic scrapes and the gang arousals.

A major highlight of the album, it is quickly rivalled by the angular twists of Kill Saatchi where warm melodies and enticing harmonies wrap its more untamed dynamics. Addressing the insidiousness of adverts and subservience to them, the track firmly nudges the imagination as it coaxes the body with its mercurial presence before Space 1998 has both rocking. One of two tracks taken from that first EP, and it has to be said both thoroughly welcomed and deserving of their place with the new offerings, the song is a spatial serenade with flirtation in its melodic web and tenacious energy in its spiral of craft and enterprise. Having a vocal hook-line which is just irresistible only adds to its majesty.

Colour In Me is next, its initial shimmer punctured by the rhythmic dexterity of Gadsden is coaxing of the richest order and soon backed by just as magnetic tendrils of guitar and Smith’s always gripping vocals. For all its virulent contagiousness volatility simmers in its depths, rising up with restraint from time to time to bring a great contrasting grittiness to the track while Misha Lives presents its magnetism through a slow but catchy stroll amidst electronic teasing and atmospheric drama. The song is a collage of flavours but all merged without clear definition into its post rock/electro/pop croon.

The folk gentleness of Driftwood (God Loves a Bird of Prey) has thoughts slipping away on its evocatively elegant breath, an acoustic flight brought back to earth by the ever addictive roar of Strange Times. The second from Accidents Happen, the song just grips from its first rapacious moment. With post hardcore hinting discord erupting across its melodic cacophony and those previously mentioned Young Knives essences colouring its character, the track continues to be manna to our ears.

Just as potent though is the truly manipulative Abyssinia. Rhythmically and harmonically it lured subservience to its suggestive heart and prowess within moments, tightening its persuasive hold by the second and each creative turn as at its core a wonderfully dark nagging bassline drives and stirs all of the adventure.

The final trio of tracks ensure the lofty heights of the album never the dip, the first of the trio, Leatherface, setting a peak of its own as sonic threat and rhythmic predation colludes with instinctive catchiness and lyrical trespass of emotive scars. Being suggested as a future single, the track is glorious epitomising the individual alchemy of the band’s songwriting, imagination, and adventurous sound.

Was It Kindness? takes on the challenge of following such a gem with its own untethered imagination where keys and voice tempt and taunt throughout as an inner crescendo bubbles up and eases, eventually bursting into a relatively calm pasture of enterprise and not the rousing romp expected; a deceit which works a treat leaving the evocative ballad of Bones to enjoyably conclude one thrilling release.

In some ways such the excellence of Accidents Happen, the quality and adventure within Anomie is not a surprise but everything about the album is bigger, bolder, and so much more irresistibly unpredictable…Another of the year’s truly essential explorations for us.

Anomie is out now and available @ https://datpmusic.bandcamp.com/

 

http://www.datpmusic.com/    https://www.facebook.com/datpmusic/    https://twitter.com/datpmusic

Pete RingMaster 15/08/2018

Copyright RingMaster: MyFreeCopyright