This is the area of In-Fi where I walk you through some of the big phat tunes I might have come across in the past few weeks or months, with the occasional trip back to a really classic track. You might like some of it, you might not. I don’t really give a shit. BUT, the thought that maybe I’ve enriched someone’s day or week or ~maybe their life~ with a straight up flipping banger of a track is too much to turn away from. So welcome to the first instalment of Yum Cha Sliders.
Every week* I’m gonna throw in some filthy rock n roll, maybe a lil’ jazz, I’ll hit ya with some hip-hop (don’t you worry about that), I’ll send some punk your way and maybe some Afro-prog-post-tonal field recordings. It’s just the good stuff in here. I don’t care. Don’t you sit there and label me. This is Danger’s house.
It’s called Yum Cha Sliders because I’ve always named my playlists Yum Cha Hamburger in successive volumes. I was like 11, I think I saw in on a skate video or something, and I’m welcome to being prosecuted for lack of creativity; originality is hackneyed, no one wants it anymore. Either way, as with most brandable ventures, we vie for memorability over sense. Just try to say Yum Cha Hamburger and not have a good time. I dare ya.
So… yeah. These are gonna be like those but, uh, smaller. Yeah. Like a, uh, slider relative to a hamburger, you know? But not food, never food. (maybe some food). It’s the weekly playlist! It’s Yum Cha Sliders!
(I won’t be writing this much every week, I just had to make sure we were all clear about the sliders/mini-playlists paradigm.)
I’ve recently been digging on the juggernaut of influence that is Todd Rundgren on the pop and garage rock worlds, so this one’s gonna be a little bit spacey, a little bit lo-fi with some crunchy riffs and dirty synths. It’s gonna be dripping with reverb and stacked delay. All the good shit. Enjoy.
(It’s probably gonna be a little more like that^ so you lot can get down to business and get your grubby mits on sum filthy tunes.)
1. Alex Macfarlane – Every Phone Is Ringing For Me
My first pick of the week is Alex Macfarlane’s Every Phone Is Ringing For Me. Macfarlane, reining member of Melbourne royalty The Stevens, released his sophomore Cassette, Cassette 2017, back in August. This past year shows a studious, patient growth for Macfarlane, who sharpens the fuzzy blade of his axe to hack away at some of the more unruly soundscapes of Cassette 2016, revealing a collection of sparkling garage gems. Particularly on this track, the punchy joviality of the lead guitar and bopping motorik beat almost parody the confidence and determination of the vocals, lending a charm which is quite disarming.
For those who like: Pipe-Eye, Guided By Voices, The Soft Boys
2. Tram Cops – She Will
If you find yourself wedged between Brian Eno and like 21 year old Mac Demarco, you’re probably at a Tram Cops show. If you miss the laughter and earnest of good rock ‘n’ roll, you probably should be at a Tram Cops show. Sincerity drips through your fingers on this track, a heart-achingly optimistic display of dancing guitars and synths. A cloud of meditative feedback hangs over the party like the promise of a cool breeze after a heatwave. Mike’s lament stands omnipotent throughout the scene, certain and decisive above the gentle chaos. If this is any indication of what the upcoming album holds, we’d all best brace ourselves.
For those who enjoy: Deerhunter, Mac Demarco, music in general, having emotions.
3. Flasher – Burn Blue
Maybe if Anton Newcombe had been born into the lethargy of the internet generation, and had a surplus of fuzz pedals instead of band members, this song would already have been written. But alas, he wasn’t, didn’t and isn’t Flasher. Where the dreamy D.C. punk trio’s single, Winnie, comes striding out of the front door, cut clean and ready to burn the town, its B-side, Burn Blue, staggers home through the back door, head reeling with the weight of the night, firing astral introspection across every surface in the kitchen. It tends to that fire they started earlier on with its instrumentation and production, punctuating its choruses with swelling feedback and snarling guitar tones, while the rhythm section prevails in delivering a mature harmony with the interplay of male and female vocals to produce a playful, unfamiliar comfort by the end of the song.
For those who enjoy: Slowdive, Brian Jonestown Massacre, Spiritualized
4. Stephen Bailey – Demure
Stephen Bailey, member of Perth’s expansive wandering drone-psych outfit Mt. Mountain, takes a moment to revel in the subtle ecstasy of his craft in Silo. Where Mt. Mountain may ooze across the land, menacing in lava-like destruction, Bailey’s Silo lights candle after candle, and, by the end of the album, washes any threshold with a flickering intimacy. Demure is a perfect opener to this album; it draws its constituents an introduction and takes a casual step away from his other work. Drums and bass spring to life straight away and push forth a hazy Krautrock stride, coated in a slow-churning 60’s garage organ. Bailey breathes his opening line over four bars alongside his equally airy guitar, giving you something to think about when this stoned motorik craftsman poses: “Don’t you/Think you’ve/Had enough now?”
For those who enjoy: Kikagaku Moyo, CAN, Galaxie 500
*the term “every week” is used forgivingly in this context; the author stating it sounded better than “like sorta every week maybe every week but like if I have shit on it might be like 1.5-2 weeks till you hear from me or whatever idk I’ll keep you posted haha.”