I’m so glad you’re back. I hope this means we maybe could see each other again. I don’t know. I’m excited to just give into abandon and see where this takes us, you know? No labels or preconceived ideas. I’d like that. Just you and me.
I feel that this Sliders list opens up a pretty vast dichotomy in the world of lo-fi songwriting. Going from high-octane garage naughtiness, to tender walks on the moon and 4 am introspection, the transitions aren’t seamless, I’ll admit. But I’m not here to curate, I’m here to get the word out. Word. And I’m out.
Pick of the week:
1. Cut Worms – Like Going Down Sideways
Brooklyn’s Max Clarke, more formally known as Cut Worms, weaves a tapestry of such earnest and clever rock n’ roll on Alien Sunset that it would have Dylan and Lennon sweating in their Chelsea boots. Like Going Down Sideways was my introduction to Cut Worms, and it should be yours too. The song ebbs and flows with the unassuming power of Clarke’s reverb drenched vocals, showcasing the sincerity of his writing, and a complete control over his craft. A look at Alien Sunset as a whole work reveals a charming collection of songs dressed to the nines in perfectly executed crackly tape warmth, that I can guarantee will make you re-evaluate the meaning with which you take your morning coffee (or tea or beer… I don’t mind if you walk your own path). Also did I mention he’s from Brooklyn?
For those who enjoy: Bob Dylan, The Kinks, Nick Drake, Brooklyn
2. The Living Eyes – International Fashion
I was watching one notorious Antifade band a few months ago, when a friend grabbed my head and pulled me in for his observation that, “It’s not often that you just see a band go full ‘Oh Sees’ mode and just pull it off.” To which I suggested that he take a trip down the Bellarine peninsula; Melbourne’s throbbing hive of hard hitting and somehow still original garage-punk. It only makes sense that The Living Eyes, the main project of the brains behind Antifade, embody this completely. They released their third studio album, Modern living, last month, and it doesn’t take too many listens to figure out that their charm lies in their ability to cram about 40 million hooks into a 2.5 minute track (at a total running time of 31 minutes that’s surely enough to have you hooked ha ha). I admit, this track appeals to the more guilty side of my brain, the side that doesn’t want to pay attention to anything for much longer than three minutes, the side that wants to climb onto the roof at 11am with a slab to kick the footy and quote Futurama. Spin this track and buy a ticket to Jerkfest. Don’t be a fool.
For those who enjoy: Ty Segall, Radio Birdman, Jay Reatard
3. Carla Dal Forno – We Shouldn’t Have To Wait
The soundscapes that run through Carla Dal Forno’s latest EP The Garden loom ominous like a haze, and suck around corners like smoke. The songs call to you through a ethereal body, occasionally dancing aside to let through the crack of a snare or a throbbing bass drum, otherwise acting agent for Dal Forno’s scenes. In this regard it’s hard to quite pinpoint the exact sound of the EP itself; the pulsing drum and bass tracks create a body of bricked out trip-hop, while the inner-workings of some industrial/ambient/post-punk creature lurch within. The vocals themselves stand stark and harrowing, echoic of trauma, contorting themselves into a frame courageous enough to tell their story. Actually, if you listen to the whole EP at 4am, heavily sober, you will actually see all of time at once and your path will henceforth be clear. Pretty neat trick, Carla. Pretty neat trick.
For those who enjoy: Nico, Brian Eno
4. Parsnip – Seeing Red
I had the pleasure of seeing Parsnip play an intimate show down the road from my house a few weekends ago, and judging by my Instagram stories last weekend, and thanks to the seemingly unstoppable juggernaut that is Flightless Records worldwide incorporated (no shade, all hail Flightless), I’m pretty sure every person in the Asia Pacific now has too. And more power to them! Parsnip are an entity that need to be experienced to be believed. This is textbook 60’s garage revival at its finest. The tones, the crunch of the chords, the driving rhythm section, the fuzzy electric organ and the energy and cheek to the vocal delivery. But as with all good garage-rock, go and see it with beer on your shoes. Trust me.
For those who enjoy: 13th Floor Elevators, Mystic Braves, Hinds
Now I’m out. Word.