Where Surfer Blood once jumped in feet-first, they now tentatively tread, dropping those killer hooks and re-imagined surf solos for more ambling and pensive musical excursions
King Khan pitches up in psycheville with his freaky BBQ show in tow, gargling out grubby little earworms and demonstrating his best Screaming Jay Hawkins impersonation
Perhaps sat on a Portuguese beach, sipping on caipirinhas, II would begin to get a whole lot more appealing, but right now it seems a tad underwhelming
Michael pogoes its way gleefully through a universe of displaced dance music influences, and more often than not comes out smiling
The record subliminally melts the soundscapes of Walls, the ambient textures of Gala Drop and the intuitive rhythms of Up in Flames era Caribou into a Maiians-shaped mould.
Their self-penned description of ‘Surf Doom’ seems spot on; a tangled mess of reverb and distortion,
the title referring to a mythical land of eternal sunshine, Hyperborea plays like a sonic odyssey; a quick fire tour of the globe
an album produced by The Haxan Cloak was never going to be kittens and ukuleles. Fitting snuggly and without fuss in Tri-angle’s oeuvre.
The balance between lightweight lo-fi and expansive alt-pop has been struck expertly, making Love a record to hold your hand during your more insular and solipsistic moments
A strange sort of super group whose debut album is hard to decipher
Black Lips show no sign of growing up just yet, and this should be celebrated for until they do, they’ll be making records as good as this.
on reflection it seems like two and half years between albums, if anything, wasn't long enough.
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