No Taste Bangers – Vol. 1
We promised we’d start doing these roundups about three weeks ago and then just got pissed in the meantime.
So, here you have it, fans. Three weeks worth of ‘ard graft.
Rat Habits, by Quiche
I really, really dig this. Quiche’s dreamy new offering is the perfect soundtrack for quaffing one last margarita in the beach bar, collapsing hammered onto a lilo and floating away into a purple sunset. This track is so very heavenly it makes me nostalgic for places I’ve never even been and decades I wasn’t even birthed. Listen to those lovely ‘doo-wop’ vocals and the gorgeous surf-shack guitars. In Rat Habits, these talented Glaswegian chaps have made something very special indeed.
Waiting, by Slye
Slye’s lastest track, Waiting, seems undecided about whether to dive fully into a smooth R&B jam or to degenerate into straight-up porn groove (that’s a good thing). Slye’s vocals are silky smooth, tripping lightly over an irresistibly head-nodding beat that builds in power to a groove so alluring it would have had Prince himself balling his gloved fists in envy. It’s a spellbinding and seductive track – do yourself a favour and add this one to your ‘Shagging’ playlist on Spotify.
Her Etherealness, by Infinite Cassette
I’ll be honest, before Sam Corrazza (AKA Infinite Cassette) sent over his album Acid Lullabies, I had no idea what shoegaze was; when he mentioned it in his introductory email I thought it was a typo. Shoegaze, for philistines such as I who did not know, is a distorted, hazy subgenre of indie rock born in the UK in the 80s. In Her Etherealness, the longest track on his album, Corrazza has created a marvel of the shoegaze genre; a swaying, ponderous soundscape that oozes flair. The ponderous churning of the guitars is reminiscent of the hypnotic, thundering end of She’s So Heavy by the Beatles – which is high praise indeed.
Right Around the Clock, by Sorry
Right around the clock, from Sorry‘s latest album, has a rhythm that resembles the confident swagger you think you have when you’re 10 pints in – when in reality you’re stumbling all over the place and slurring your words. Arguably the best kind.
It’s filled with lo-fi guitars, explosive drums, a saloon piano and a ‘fuck you’ vocal track. Listen to it.
Belly of the Beast, by Cheap Teeth
This bolshy number from Cheap Teeth isn’t going to played in your local rooftop bar or by the pool – or maybe it will, just by a badly tattooed geezer who snuck some tinnies and a speaker in and he doesn’t give a toss what you think.
Apart from that situation (haha), the self-assured vocals have a resemblance to those of Sports Team, a teacup ride of tone and intensity that creates an adventurous listen every time.
I bloody love the energy it holds. Almost evil, but it doesn’t care enough, like Dracula splashing all his cash on a mega house party, with all sorts of drugs, for his villain pals. And it’s made this week’s line up for that exact reason. Legends.
Nick Gowland, by BUGS
I’m going to assume the cover art for Nick Gowland is indeed, Nick Gowland.
The spacey track by BUGS has a triumphant victory feel to it. Warped guitars shape an uplifting optimism from a state of ruin; the TV remote amongst the empty cans in your front room following a messy after party the night before.
The descriptive imagery set by the lines “did you curdle inside as you aged like milk that gets old” slowly become a bit more direct to “Nick Gowland will die washed out and alone” as if they get progressively angrier just singing about him.
Belly Dancer, by Pentire
A classic tale of the troubles of young romance laid atop a classic indie track. Convincing your girlfriend you really do love her despite zero other signals aside from slurring the words “a bloody love you” whilst queuing for a kebab at 1 am whilst she’s sober. I haven’t been here, just heard about it…
There’s a lot of potential with Pentire, a band that will do well live if they’re a strong unit on stage – which it sounds like they are. I will try and catch these when tours start again, and you should too.