The Orange Kyte – Carousel

Jan14

With two rather well-received albums under their belts, Irish-Canadian psych-garage rockers The Orange Kyte have already revealed an individual sound as rich in its variety as it is fascinating in its character. Even so with loose ends connected and its web of adventure extended it is an evolving exploration of enterprise which has now come to a head in new album Carousel.

The Vancouver outfit’s fusion of garage and psych rock with shoegaze and indie inclinations again breeds the tracks making up Carousel but each stands as an individual enticement as much a pop protagonist as a rock incitement with many more flavours embraced in their fairgrounds of curiosity and adventure. From start to finish, the album dances with the body whilst taking flight with the imagination, its touch dirty and voice haunting but at its core a body of rock ‘n’ roll revelry.

Founded in 2016, originally as a solo project by Dublin hailing singer /songwriter/guitarist Stephen White (Magic Shoppe, ex- Strange Things and Ireland’s House of Dolls), The Orange Kyte inspirations include the broad likes of The Velvet Underground, Syd Barrett, Graham Coxon, The Byrds, Primal Scream, The Who, Death in Vegas, CAN, White Fence, Spiritualized and Super Furry Animals as well as psychedelia and krautrock in general. Many are essences which immediately flavour the heart and endeavour of Carousel as revealed by opener Masquerade!

The instant jangle of Mat Durie and White’s guitars immediately enticed keen attention as rhythms pounced, the psych flames of Matty Reed’s sax only intensifying the tempting. From its first breath quickly after, the song’s stroll is an eager bounce, the animated beats of drummer Dave Mulvaney as encouraging as the dark swing of Pierce Kingan’s bass, it all wrapped in the just as infectious hug of Durie’s keys. Together the ingredients made for a virulent and addictive enticement, one as rousing, bordering on the rowdy, as it was dark and invasively provocative.

The Modern Day Saints follows with a slightly more tempered gait but one again as contagious as the melodic warmth and enterprise making up its infection. As in all songs, Whites tones are a dream coated lure of temptation and lyrical observation within a web of tenacious sound while every element of the track hit the spot with Chris van der Laan swinging the sticks this time, the sax again especially potent before Distractions springs its melodic gossamer upon drum machine beats to beguile and haunt the senses. There is a House Of Love breath to the track at times which only adds to its psychedelic thought and irresistible seduction.

A rapacious appetite comes with the creative promotion of C.O.P., the controlled but boisterous persistence of the song again utter contagion even as vocals and melodic invention continually evolves and accentuates its ear gripping body while the following pair of Little Death Balloon and Demonstration Garden with their respective groove bound captivation and drone scented serenade similarly seized keen ears, the former a glorious slice of the band’s sound and imagination bound in one of the album’s major highlights with its successor, as all tracks, no lightweight in thick enterprise and temptation.

The R/B spun garage rock canter of Infinity Rope equally had attention in the palms of its transfixing surf coated hands to emulate the success of the tenacious garage pop antics shared by Sea Of Love / Ocean Of Hate before it , a constantly growing track again fusing psychedelic and pop exploits in a moment of creative manipulation.

The Chris van der Laan produced Carousel closes with the stripped down offering of Downfall, a sinking into sonic smog as inviting and evocative as it is disturbing and disorientating, and finally the sixties pop lined garage pop of Captain Ron. Both songs echo the diversity of the release, the band’s sound, and the inescapable lure of the creative fertility behind it all.

Carousel is a real joy, a ride of enterprise which effortlessly got under the skin whilst announcing The Orange Kyte one of the leading lights in the next decade of garage/psych adventure.

Carousel is out now on 12″ pink vinyl from Little CLoud Records (US/Canada) and Cardinal Fuzz (UK/EU) and digitally @ https://theorangekyte.bandcamp.com/album/carousel

https://theorangekyte.com/ https://www.facebook.com/theorangekyte https://twitter.com/theorangekyte

Pete RingMaster 14/01/2020

Morning Bells – Fall From The Velvet Sky

Jan7

photo by Susan Sage

From its evocative title to the intimacy of its heart bred lyrics alone, the new EP from US indie rock outfit Morning Bells makes for a richly alluring proposition and bound in just as provocative and arousing sounds Fall From The Velvet Sky quite simply proved one richly compelling encounter.

Hailing from Raleigh in N. Carolina, Morning Bells began with the creative union of drummer Bryan Fransman and long-time friend, vocalist Ric Denton. Swiftly the emerging band grew as bassist Laura Weislo was enlisted by the duo with in time guitarist Emory Ball and keyboardist Peele Wimberley completing the quintet. Their sound is said to embrace inspirations ranging from Johnny Marr, Television, and The Gun Club to The Smiths, Yo La Tengo, David Sylvian, and Talk Talk alongside for us upon their first EP a certain R.E.M. scenting.

In saying that, the opening track of Fall From The Velvet Sky has a thick dark creative breath which reminds of Scottish band, The Filthy Tongues. The initial melodic glisten of Ghost Story is soon descended upon by emotive shadows, keys and rhythms united in their gothic intimation even before Denton shares his equally suggestive tones. The psych rock breath of those keys continues to light the haunting embrace of the song, its reflective stroll a prowling instigator on ears and imagination.

The track is superb remaining our favourite moment within Fall From The Velvet Sky with relative ease though its companions like the following Through The Dark are no less potent in their captivation and creative incitement. As its predecessor, the EP’s second track immediately enticed keen attention with its first melodic touch, guitar and keys swiftly engaging the senses before the shadowy lure of rhythms and Denton’s ever magnetic tones and words escalate the enticement. The bewitching serenade of the song simply had us hooked before The Truth Is matched its success with its own absorbing temptation. Pop and rock traits entangle within the captivation woven and addiction bred, thick fascination spawned in the web of sound and voice.

Next up, The Night You Touched My Hand shares an eighties indie pop seduction in its melodies and nineties rock rapacity, a fusion further invigorated by volatile urgency and touches with the result another track which just got under the skin and had us hooked and involved in swift time.

The EP concludes with Tonight; a track which maybe did not quite match up to its companions yet had ears eagerly held and our pleasure in full flow as Fall From The Velvet Sky completed its beguiling adventure. It is a release which quickly and increasingly impressed and aroused, thoughts soon relishing the band’s own imagination us eager anticipation blossomed for the next fresh creative resonance from Morning Bells.

Fall From The Velvet Sky is out now; available @ https://morningbellsband.bandcamp.com/album/fall-from-the-velvet-sky

https://www.morningbellsband.com/ https://www.facebook.com/morningbellsband https://twitter.com/morningbells2

Pete RingMaster 04/01/2020

Tombstones In Their Eyes – Maybe Someday

Dec12

photo by Cathryn Farnsworth

With a healthy clutch of heavy praise bearing releases already under their belt, Los Angeles hailing indie psych rock outfit Tombstones in Their Eyes have just unveiled their new album; a release destined to eclipse all before in acclaim and success. It is a feeling simply hard to escape as the album smothers the senses in its swampy and rousing, enveloping and seductive textures, and one which intensifies with every compelling listen.

The band’s sound is almost suffocating as it surrounds ears with its spatial bound, haze clouded fusion of psych rock and shoe gaze within post rock seeded soundscapes. Each track within the Paul Roessler (Nina Hagen, The Deadbeats, The Screamers, 45 Grave) recorded Maybe Someday provides a dreamscape of suggestion around a sonorous wall of intimation and all go towards making the new Tombstones In Their Eyes full-length one fascinating and invigorating exploration.

From its opening breath, Maybe Someday began surging under the skin, the stormy entrance of opener Open Skies rich in threat and intimation. Those hues only thicken as the sonic flames of guitarists John Treanor and Josh Drew ignite the subsequent melodic stroll of the song, one instantly catchy and captivating with the equally magnetic vocals of Treanor in full sway within its canorous winds.

With a touch of Spacemen 3 meets My Bloody Valentine meets Birdland to it, the track makes a rousing start to the album which its outstanding title track quickly accentuates with its calmer but no less hypnotic proposition. The rhythms of bassist Mike Mason and drummer Stephen Striegel hit their manipulative stride from the off, inciting song and listener alike as the vaporous keys of Treanor echo the harmonic resonance of his voice and the guitars. As the first, it is an infectious almost invasive temptation sparking only an appetite for more which I Want You feeds with its somnambulistic serenade. Flirtation lines its melancholy as radiance wraps its melodic reassurance, individual craft and enterprise accentuating all of its haunting beauty as the album spots another irresistible moment in its still short but already impressive presence.

Shadows cast potent intimation upon the following soul searching Today while Down in the Dirt bears a grungier side to its character while circling the senses with its own individual psych rock nurtured squall as voice and words bear their hearts. Both songs expel mesmeric charm from start to finish, each sharing their unique imaginations before The Demon manages to eclipse both their striking exploits with its surf kissed, self-refection bred rapture and beauty.

Through the muggier climate of Behind My Mind and the similarly intense crawl of The One, Tombstones In Their Eyes brought new dramatic shades to their album’s evolving landscape and thicker pleasure to ears, the latter verging on the predacious as harmonic radiance sweep turbulent mercurial skies. Among many major moments within the release, the song especially stands out before I Believe leaves its infectious mark on the album’s imagination permeating body. As with all tracks drama accompanies craft and imagination, this song especially potent with this mix.

I Can’t Feel It Anymore saunters through ears as it draws the listener into its ethereal embrace, keeping itself grounded with dark and heavy textures to compliment the seducing with the following Up and Down providing a seductive kiss on the senses whilst weaving a post rock nurtured terrain of barb carrying textures.

As it began, the album leaves gripping hold of attention through final track Dreams. Its synth pop opening has a Visage scented breath to its electronic mist from which intimacy soaked shadows and rock grounded volatility brews. The song is pure mesmerism, evolving note by note to never let the listener assume or the imagination settle as it brings a simply spellbinding album to a truly thrilling conclusion.

Maybe Someday is out now via digitally and on limited edition CD through Somewherecold Records; available at https://tombstonesswc.bandcamp.com/album/maybe-someday

https://www.facebook.com/TombstonesInTheirEyes https://twitter.com/tombsinthreyes

Pete RingMaster 12/12/2019

The Gaa Gaas – Self Titled

Dec6

There is no sense of understatement when we say that the debut album from UK outfit The Gaa Gaas has been one long awaited and highly anticipated release, to the band as much as fans, but now finally here there is no sense of an anti-climax in its arrival and triumphant presence.

We admit we have been hooked on The Gaa Gaas sound since discovering the Jersey hailing, often Brighton/ London based outfit over a decade ago, the band itself emerging from the imagination of vocalist/guitarist Gavin Tate and co in 2003 after meeting at a garage punk club night called ‘Bomp’ in St Helier, Jersey. Subsequent singles, EP’s and live shows across the UK and Europe have only brought greater acclaim by the year and richer reputation by the creative escapade but as all artists know it is a perpetual struggle to realise the next step or ignite greater attention. The Gaa Gaas have met all obstacles and hold ups with resistance as the years have sneaked by but the determination to release their album and breach major spotlights has now found its moment with the latter of the two surely to deservedly follow.

The Gaa Gaas sound is as individual in its character and enterprise as it is unique in its voice. It is bred on the nutrients of post punk, punk, psych rock, noise and much more but as suggested emerges as its own senses menacing, imagination seducing sonic virus. From within a drone enlivened nagging, hooks bite with creative rabidity as rhythms tease with serial killer like intent. That alone proves an irresistible trespass but add the infernal melodic toxins which the band just as easily conjure, it all makes for one rapacious addiction which is no more enjoyable and compelling than within their self-titled debut album.

The album opens with Close Your Eyes, a lone strum of guitar providing a lingering scent of sonic jeopardy from within which a rhythmically swinging clamour bursts. Instantaneously it is a contagious affair, the bass of Jamey Exton leading the rhythmic infection further driven by drummer Stewart Brown’s bold strikes. The sonic smog escaping Tate’s guitar smothers as it seduces, his vocals dancing with almost contempt on the wires within that enveloping incitement. Resistance to the track’s bounce is non-existent as the track manipulates limb and spirit alike, a glorious start to the release firmly declared.

In its own Bauhaus hued architectural landscape, Statues proves just as gripping, bass and beats setting a virulent lure as guitar and vocals express their twisted psych breath upon industrial and post punk honed intimation. Tate’s keys are just as invasive and animated as the ravening sounds escaping his guitar, the track as magnificent as its predecessor and indeed the following V.O.L.T.A.I.R.E. A track we devoured years back, it is still as powerful and irrepressible now, from its first citric sighs through the rhythmic stroll which invades every instinct to move, and the tart melodies which wrap its pure contagion, the song devours ears and appetite like a swing loaded creative plague.

The Type Of Mood is just as insistent in its groove and infection, the keys of Peter Hass a tangy sweetness in the more caustic but no less tempting commotion expressed by Tate’s guitar. Again there is a vocal eighties post punk air to the track, a cold nostalgic din given greater depth and adventure by The Gaa Gaas’ senses trespassing imagination while the ever rousing Hypnoti(z)ed provides a less intrusive but equally as overwhelming and manipulative not forgetting delicious incitement. The bass of Ali Cooper is at its core temptingly harassing as beats bite and Tate’s vocals holler, everything off kilter and bewitching like an especially devious cobra before it strikes.

C.U.T.S. is built of the same devilment, every aspect niggling at the senses and each strand of its web crawling under the skin before unleashing its predacious rabidity and sonic fermentation. Drowned in its tide and blissful in its maelstrom, the track just had us lost in our own physical and emotional eruption before The One Eyed Stranger took ears and imagination on a stroll through dark avenues of enterprise and addiction. The sax of Luke Georgiou lights the way with delicious drama, its enterprise echoed in the tones of Tate and the persistently swinging rhythms of Cooper and drummer Matt Maguire. Once more Bauhaus come to mind in many ways across the track and though there is no real comparison to The Gaa Gaas’ sound, Pete Murphy and co are the closest to give some inkling of its identity.

In the 2018 version of Entertainment which graces this release, punk rock is the fuel to its discontent and creative agitation, the track biting back at a landscape as prevalent now as any previous time as the beats of Maguire take lethal pot shot. It is a song which in its early writing hints at the eventual wonderfully nagging quality of the band’s sound which is fully employed by next up Perception within its scuzzy senses haunting, habit forming rapture.

The album concludes with Indian Giver, a beguiling psych rock nurtured instrumental as potent on the imagination as it is the ears. There is a Cure like scenting to the track, especially in its rhythmic saunter, and dour breath which manages to be as radiant in beauty as it is dark in suggestion. It is a fascinating and enslaving end to a release which even with our already in place eager expectations of pleasure left us basking in richer joy, invasively impressed, and expecting the band to finally find deserved recognition in far broader and intense spotlights.

The Gaa Gaas album is out now on Movement-2 Records; available @ https://thegaagaas.bandcamp.com/album/self-titled-album

http://www.thegaagaas.co.uk/ https://www.facebook.com/TheGaaGaas https://twitter.com/The_Gaa_Gaas

Pete RingMaster 05/12/2019

Wizard Rifle – Self Titled

Sep10

Like a sonic devil they tempt your pigeonholing and defining of their sound and with the same Mephistophelian glee side step every attempt with their infernal webs of sound. They are Oregon rockers Wizard Rifle and their latest album epitomises their devilish conjuring of creative deception. Their self-titled offering also provides one of the most rousing and thrilling encounters of the year. Their sound is punk, sludge rock, psych and thrash punk, noise rock, metal and much more besides in one cacophonous temptation; quite simply it is feral rock ‘n’ roll and across forty four minutes pure contagion.

Emerging in Portland in 2009, Wizard Rifle are no newcomers to high praise as their electric live presence, which has seen them share stages with the likes of The Melvins, High On Fire, YOB, Lightning Bolt, Bongzilla, Buzzov*en, Black Cobra, and Church of Misery, over time has been accompanied by two well-received full-lengths in Speak Loud Say of 2012 and Here in the Deadlight two years later. Now the duo of guitarist/vocalist Max Dameron and drummer/vocalist Sam Ford are ready to take on the world with a release which embraces the building blocks of its predecessors and shapes a proposition which defies convention, relishes devouring expectations, and sets out its own unique agenda in virulent noise.

Rocket to Hell ignites the babel of sound devouring the senses from with the album though there is no confusion in its creation and enterprise. The opener teases from its first breath with the plucking of guitar strings, the gentle lure the persuasive deceit before the ferocious babble of sound momentarily waiting to erupt. And break out it does with ravenous intent; the pair’s united vocals as harmonious as they are untamed as around them sonic squalls casts melodic and sonic temptation as raw as it is virulent. The track continues to infectiously nag as it rapaciously ravages, that tempest of flavours previously mentioned blended into a predacious trespass strapped with the keenest of hooks and salacious grooves.

As discord and melody craftily entangle it is a glorious incitement and matched by that within the following Cevaman Waltz. Rhythms prowl as a chugging guitar goes eye to eye with instincts, a devious grin lining rapid grooves and an epidemic of infection while equally compelling vocals ride its hungry currents. Again it is a mix which nags and harries but with less voracity than its predecessor though that is replaced by a pressure of urgency which only accelerates by the minute until erupting in a cyclone of wild and fertile commotion with those original grooves still steering the greed for the band’s invention.

A Celtic spicing infects the compelling landscape of next up Beneath the Spider, its emprise a tapestry of rabid intent and collected melodic dexterity spun with craft and imagination. There is a great manipulation to the Wizard Rifle sound, its hooks and grooves an infestation of the body as melodic irreverence grip the imagination and no more inescapable and powerful than within the eight minutes making up this slice of potent incitement.

The next twelve minutes plus comes in the shape of Funeral of the Sun, the closing cyclonic tempest of the previous track reaped of its incessant sonic persecution by the opening bait of its successor. Dangling acidic guitar lures it entices and then devours in swirls and expulsions of creative ruthlessness and barbarity but an assault which is pure untamed catchiness. Similarly vocals harmoniously invite and venomously bite before the progressive heart of the track emerges to just as potently seduce. The tide of noise cannot be abated for long and it returns but with a much more melodic breath. Pure fascination exudes the track, which never suffers in its length, as pleasure floods ears before it.

V concludes the release, psychedelic seducing radiating from within its intrepid venture of sound and ambition. Seductive and fierce, subtle and bold, the track provides an unpredictable multi-textured furnace of flavour and captivation.

Wizard Rifle’s album is a glorious contradiction; it is animatingly wild yet cleverly composed, boldly untethered but chained to distinct imagination and craft. It is also another of the year’s major pleasures which should see the band burst beyond previous boundaries of attention.

The Wizard Rifle album is out now via Svart Records; available @ https://wizardrifle.bandcamp.com

https://www.facebook.com/wizardrifle/

Pete RingMaster 06/09/2019

Pearl Handled Revolver – Fantasy Reigns

Jul11

Though a band already with a wealth of compelling sounds and acclaim garnering releases behind them at the time, we were introduced to British dark rockers Pearl Handled Revolver three years back through their third studio album, If The Devil Cast His Net. It was an encounter which captivated ears and imagination in varying degrees across each track with all leaving a mark which inspired the real anticipation of its successor. Now the band has uncaged Fantasy Reigns, a fascination of sound and enterprise which firmly puts its predecessor in the shade.

The Bedford hailing quartet has brewed their enthralling blend of psychedelic rock, blues rock ‘n’ roll, and rhythmic animation with increasing invention and vision across every release. It is a potent reputation only further enlivened by a rousing live presence which has seen them share stages with the likes of The Black Crowes, The Blockheads, My Baby, Hawkwind, Focus, Uriah Heep, 10CC, Don Airey & Friends, and Stray over the years. With Fantasy Reigns though it feels like they have breached yet another fresh plateau of adventure and temptation, its eight tracks flourishing with richer flavours and creative dynamics to eagerly incite body and imagination alike.

Immediately Fantasy Reigns provided us with our favourite moment, In Your Blood a riveting, delicious incitement of a track which instantly had us wrapped in its lures as the sonic wires of guitarist Andy Paris encircle an opening sample. Within an instant the spirited rhythms of drummer Chris Thatcher infest appetite and limbs, their lure immersed in the equally enticing temptation of Simon Rinaldo’s keys. It is a tantalising persuasion only lifted again by the duskier tones of vocalist Lee Vernon and the eventful delivery it comes in. Drama soaks every note and syllable, creeping shadows courting the adventure of sound and storytelling with magnetic, almost predacious prowess.

The track is glorious, an instant pinnacle continuously worried with similarly potent enterprise across the release as proven by the following Machine Gun. Again real tenacity drives rhythms and melodic intimation, those darker hues as prevalent in the heated landscape of a song fuelled by emotive volatility. As dirt encrusts its inherent rock ‘n roll, guitars and organ cast a fiery tapestry of invention and again creative drama within before Belly of the Whale unfurls its epic tenebrific tale. Immersive to the point of claustrophobic within its thick atmospheric embrace, the song still leads limbs like a puppeteer on a funereal gaited dance as another major moment infests album and listener alike.

Its increasingly rousing dynamics and tempting lead to the calm coaxing of its successor, Something Going On Up There, where swarthy sonic sighs frequent the elegant embrace of keys. The emerging crepuscular serenade had little trouble seducing attention as again psych and blues hues lock together with fascination; the beguiling bass lures of Rinaldo bewitching before Siren lives up to its name drawing ears and appetite upon the rapacious rocks of its theatre and intensive darkness.

Petrol Skin equally captivated within its persuasive almost invasive sultry twilight while The Switch had us bouncing with its caliginous psych rock web cast in intoxicating guitar threads, each coated in the melodic humidity and suggestiveness of keys. With rhythms as magnetic and vulturine as vocals, the track was one more which simply and wholly seduced ears and passions and with greater force by the listen.

Fantasy Reigns concludes with Raise Your Hand, its voracious rock ‘n’ roll as virulent as it is tantalising but set with an instinctive indeed anthemic catchiness which had the body bouncing with lustful participation. In no time a fine end to the album is cast and a need to go again from the very start driving instincts.

Pearl Handled Revolver is no wallflower in impressing and exciting ears but with Fantasy Reigns they have boiled up a whole fresh cauldron of undiluted temptation for all psych/blues appetites to greedily feast upon.

Fantasy Reigns is out now across most stores.

https://pearlhandledrevolver.co.uk/ https://www.facebook.com/pearlhandledrevolver/ https://twitter.com/PearlHandledRev

Pete RingMaster 11/07/2019

Dark Stares – The Lightning Echo

May30

Darkly haunting and persistently mesmeric, The Lightning Echo is the new album from UK rockers Dark Stares. The successor to their acclaimed debut, Darker Days Are Here to Stay, the new release provides twelve tracks which lure the listener and imagination into the realm between warm and portentous dreams; each a siren of intimation and reflection which enjoyably proved rather hard to escape.

St Albans hailing, Dark Stares has been a persistent captivation from their early tracks and EPs such as Octopon and Soul Contract through to that creatively potent first full-length of last year. Looking back to Darker Days Are Here to Stay, there is no doubt that The Lightning Echo is the natural progression to its predecessor but equally it has evolved its own fascination and unique character of sound; a nagging seduction which wraps the senses like a crepuscular animal.

The album immediately strides through ears with You Know Me, the track’s high kneed beats stamping authority on attention as the fuzz bred grooves of Harry Collins wind around them and the equally magnetic tones of vocalist Miles Kristian Howell. From the single song alone it is easy to hear why Queens Of The Stone Age is often used as a comparison though there is no escaping the singular identity of the Dark Stares sound either.

The highly rousing start is prolonged by the similarly anthemic Dance, a tenacious command on the body bound in the dark climes of surf/desert rock. Again the imposing yet contagious lure of Brett Harland Howell’s bass and Taylor Howell’s spirited beats manipulate song and listener, the Middle Eastern lures cast by Collin’s guitar quite irresistible in one of the album’s major peaks.

Next up Spell You’ve Cast is a similarly beguiling temptress if a slightly sinistrous one, its body a writhing tease of grooves and enticing vocals across almost predatory rhythms while the following Crusader brings a dustier desert rock landscaped croon with volatility in its rich fertile earth. Each made for a riveting proposition if the first with fiercer temptation as too Mr Midnight with its rapacious crawl and tantalising menace. As those around it, the magnificent encounter spins a web of flavour and suggestion sparking imagination and appetite for its tenebrific charm and bait.

There is something of a Doors meets Muse shimmer to The Shadows and Faceless Man, the first with its mercurial climate and compelling sonic grumble breeding sheer dark captivation and through the second wrapping an emotive melodic shroud around ears before breaking out into its pensive musing. Sandwiched between them is Today, a song edging more firmly to the sixties psychedelia of Morison and co. and though it does not quite match up to those alongside one that only grips attention and enjoyment.

After them, In My Pocket initially shimmers before catching flame, repeating its persuasive melodic cycle with greater intensity as Zedi Forder-esque hues bring earnest breath to the increasingly compelling encounter while in turn intrigue soaked and with disquieting glamour Misty Lanes makes its potent play for best track honours.

The album concludes with the radiantly rapacious saunter of Dead and Gone and lastly the hearty rock ‘n’ roll of Rebel Angel. Both tracks hit the spot with the first another simply adding to the numerous reasons as to why The Lightning Echo should not be ignored.

Easily The Lightning Echo is the finest moment with Dark Stares to date, one which for us only gets more thrilling and addictive by the listen.

The Lightning Echo is out across most stores May 31st.

https://www.darkstares.com/ https://www.facebook.com/DarkStares/ https://twitter.com/dark_stares

Pete RingMaster 30/05/2019