Tuesday, 4 December 2012

Terry Malts - Killing Time

This is an odd one. The music is scuzzy garage-punk, but as opposed to something like AAAA The New Memphis Legs, where the blockbuster noise swallows everything, here the vocals are put way up front to dominate and it just so happens that the vocalist here is a goddamn goldenthroat crooner, which means even though the music is a delicious babble of fuzz, the whole album feels way poppier and smoother than that. In places it reminds me of the Onion Flavored Rings, though it's simultaneous less spiky-scratchy and more noisy. The vocals roll everything into this sweet warm hum of earworm powerpop where even a humanist anthem like Not a Christian with its bitten crustcore-classic refrain of “NO GODS! NO MASTERS!” and its opening 10 seconds of deformed feedback seems like the happy buzz of a fourth pint, summerday smiles at being alone in the universe. Tumble Down sneaks the opening of Rocks in My Head by the Vindictives and bathes in clackety drums and ba-ba-bas. Nauseous rips into gear quickly and doesn't let up, contains a plethora of cutting guitar wheedles and snips, and even features a snotty spiteball of a chorus in "Your love makes nauseous!" but the ooh-ooh-ghosts and the general air instilled by those affable lounge pipes ameliorate any real menace leave the song and yeah this whole album with a feelgood melodious shiver.

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