Posts Tagged ‘Thank’

Human Worth – 18th October 2024

Sorry, not sorry, as they say. In the spring of 2023, off-the-wall supergeroup collaboration featuring members of USA Nails, Nitkowski and Screen Wives, The Eurosuite, released their third album, through Human Worth. They were so sorry, they’ve done another. Only this time, they promise, it’s different.

As the accompanying notes explain, ‘Produced by Wayne Adams (Petbrick / Big Lad) at Bear Bites Horse Studios, the band have taken a different approach from their maximalist output on their second LP Sorry – do less. Where the songs on Sorry were built from a variety of jams, band member ideas, traded demos and looped phone recordings, the 10 songs within Totally Fine were all built and mercilessly edited from a full band improvisations, with individualism, indulgence and egos set aside to better serve the songs… That spirit of minimalism is threaded through each track, which veer from sinewy post punk (‘Crustacean Blue’), throbbing death disco (‘Antimatter’) and something between driving krautrock, surf rock freakouts and an evil version of the B52s (‘12 Diphthongs’, ‘Houseplants’)’.

Sorry was a cracking album: that’s essentially a fact. It still is. But it was seeing them live that they really clicked for me: something about that manic energy in the room, the way each member of the band bounced off one another, if felt as if there was something happening in real-time that went beyond the recorded work.

Here, all of the same elements are present: fizzling synths, jerky guitars, sudden thundering bass runs, changes of tempo, blasts of noise, beats that flit from disco to industrial pounding, and vocals which swing from half-spoken to shouty – and that’s only in the first couple of songs, with a combined running time of less than five minutes. But there’s a newfound focus and intensity, and well as, perhaps a greater separation of instruments which lays the components elements more evident.

There seems to be an emerging subgenre of weird, quirky, jerky noisy shit that’s a bit mathy but with some fried electronics and simply prone to exploding in any direction without a moment’s notice, and it’s noteworthy that both The Eurosuite and Thank, prime exponents of this wide-eyed demented frenzied kind of racket have both found homes at Human Worth. The label’s always had its ear to the ground and its tendrils out for noisy stuff with something different about it, and this feels like an emergent form.

Somewhere in the recesses of my overcrowded memory, there’s a vague recollection of an interview with a band sometime in maybe the late eighties – it may have been a grebo act like Gaye Biker on Acid on how the future of music might be weird, like ‘people playing bits of toast or whatever’ (the quote is from memory, since I’m buggered if I can find it on the Internet and don’t have a month spare to look through books and press cuttings for the sake of fact-checking a detour in a review for an album due out next week). Anyone who’s seen Territorial Gobbing will likely agree we’ve reached that point. But with the likes of Thank and The Eurosuite, they may not be quite that far out, but they’re pretty damn far out in terms of the way their compositions leap and lurch all over, and are simply so far removed from more conventional song structures with verses, choruses, mid-sections, even bridges and pre-choruses or whatever that song forms are being pushed to new limits. And this is exciting and brain-bending in equal portions.

Perhaps this is the culmination of everything that’s preceded it. Perhaps it’s a reaction to the crazy, overstimulated world we live in. Perhaps it’s the soundtrack to emerging from the other side of postmodernism. After all, postmodernism was deemed a ‘schizophrenic’ culture by Deleuze and Guattari in their seminal work, Anti-Oedipus¸ suggesting that schizophrenia is the only sane response to a deranged world. And perhaps this is the proof.

Totally Fine as a title intimates a breeziness, but the kind of airy offhand response which often masks a darker truth. Not that Totally Fine is a showcase of frenetic flailing and pedalling in all directions, and as such has a groundlessness to it. It’s the sound of searching, of grappling with reality, and the very concept of reality.

Some of the songs are barely a minute long: ‘Crustacean Blue’ brings a stuttering blast of a riff that lasts for a mere fifty-five seconds, electronic squeals adding that all-essential eye-popping dimension, and only ‘Reflection Monster’ runs past three minutes. ‘Bellyache’ is one of the most ‘conventional’ songs on the album, and comes on a bit like Suicide and early Cabaret Voltaire with a hint of Throbbing Gristle.

Somehow, by stripping things back, they’ve cranked up the claustrophobia and amped the intensity. There are some dark, low, grinding grooves and some manic hollering vocals on display here, and they do define the album – but that defines it more is the audacious racket, the wild anti-structures, the sheer imagination.

Clawing my way through ‘Bagman’ ‘Earworm’ I can feel my blood pressure increasing as the manic noise amps up… and up. But I’m totally fine. Really, I am. Totally Fine.

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‘Woke Frasier’ is the third and final single from the Leeds band’s upcoming second album I Have A Physical Body That Can Be Harmed, out on November 8th via Big Scary Monsters.

They write: “You can think of this as a sort of sequel to the ‘Torture Cube’ video, also by George Chadwick. Who can say whether or not Rodney Fipplecash will make further appearances within the Thank cinematic universe? Only time will tell.”

Check it here. It’s woke gone mad, I tell you!

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Human Worth – 20th July 2024

Christopher Nosnibor

Exciting times always abound with Human Worth, and while the summer has up to now been a truly dismal washout, and it’s hard not to be sceptical about the hype around an imminent heatwave in a couple of weeks, July is almost guaranteed to be a scorcher in the environs of our favourite boutique London Label, with an album from Brighton supergroup Pascagoula, and this, the debut long player from Newcastle electro-disco-riot noisemakers Fashion Tips. The fact that the initial run of fifty ‘vibrant’ pink cassettes sold out in forty-eight hours, leading to an immediate second batch, indicates the level of buzz around this band – one might even say they’re pretty hot right now, and it’s not hard to understand why.

They only coalesced in late 2022, with the founding members of bass player Liam Slack and guitarist Jorden Sayer subsequently being joined by Esme Louise Newman who had established a name for herself with black metal duo Penance Stare. Fashion Tips signify quite a departure for her, but she seems well-suited and to be enjoying the change of style – pardon the pun. With opening slots for the mighty Mclusky and a tour with cult Leeds wonky noisemongers Thank, not to mention a well-received (and not just by us) debut EP.

For I Wish You Every Success, they’ve managed to get Anthony Chapman (Collapsed Lung, Mclusky, Bis, Skinned Teen) to work production duties – and a fine job he’s done, too.

The title may be a little less stunned – and stunning – than predecessor Fucking Hell, but is interesting and amusing, given that it’s a phrase you most commonly encounter on leaving cards or other notes of departure. One has to hope that this is knowingly ironic, given that the Tips (as at some point they should come to be known by an ardent and substantial fanbase) are very much still warming up here.

The album’s eight songs are cumulatively impactful, a sharp-edged, pointy-cornered assault of back-and-forth oscillating synths and thudding beats dominated by booming basslines which often threaten to submerge the abrasive, antagonistic vocals, which swing between sneer and squawk. ‘Radio Song’ – a song designed for the moshpit rather than the radio – is thee perfect opener, a raw blast of antagonism, a sonic middle finger to pretty much everything, and at the same time. That Bikini Kill have recently made a powerful and triumphant return suggests that now is the time for a riot grrrl revival after everything lese has been trawled over, but it’s the stabbing electronics and hard-edged synths which render Fashion Tips quite distinct.

‘The Lovers’ emerges in a blast of noise and locks into a frenetic groove before going wild disco, and it’s a proper hard slap around the face, electropunk cranked up to eleven.

They pack three songs’ worth of ideas into each composition, the majority of which clock in at around three minutes. It crackles and fizzes and bends the brain. Buzzing, bleeping, pumping single cut ‘Don’t Call Me’ is entirely representative of the blistering attack that I Wish You Every Success delivers. Hyped-up and hyperactive, it leaves you dizzy, dazed, punchdrunk even before the bratty drum ‘n’ bass blast of ‘Steve Lamaq’ crashes in and absolutely slays with two minutes of pure frenzy.

Grinding bass and laser-like blasts dominate the hi-NRG punk attack of ‘Hot Problems’, and Fashion Tips pack ‘em in tight and hard. There is quite literally no respite, not a moment to regain breath while listening to I Wish You Every Success, and you’re moshing in your head to some utterly punishing riffs.

Fashion Tips are the band we need right now. They are all the energy, and I Wish You Every Success is a massive rush from beginning to end.

They’ll probably be onto the third pressing by the time you read this. I certainly hope so. There ought to be a CD and vinyl edition, too. And, simply, taking quality to the next level, this album needs to be everywhere. I really do wish them every success – because they deserve it. And not in the leaving card sense.

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Christopher Nosnibor

I’m out on my second consecutive night of gigging and it feels like it used to in 2019, when I used to do this sort of thing all the time. Other things about this remind e of times past, too. It’s a fairly last-minute show, booked after a couple of dates in Scotland fell through, leaving Thank and tour buddies Fashion Tips with gaps in their schedule. Consequently, promotion has been a bit sparse and ticket sales have only been ‘ok’, attracting the kind of turnout that would look good in a 100-200 capacity venue, but perhaps not so good in a 350-capacity space.

Moving the bands to the floor instead of the stage really changed the dynamic, though, and it worked so, so well. Having a 100% solid lineup was what really made all the difference, though, with local guitar and drums duo Junk It being first up.

Having caught them supporting Part Chimp in the same venue back in November 2022 (how was it that long ago?), I’d dug their sound and seen potential. They’re now absolutely delivering on that early promise, and tonight they’re absolutely outstanding. The set beings with a squall of feedback (as does every song, and as often occupies the space between songs) and a mega thick grunge riff. The guitarist sports a beard, long hair, chunky boots and long flowing skirt, and carries it off well, flailing said hair wildly while blasting out hefty power chords.

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Junk It

The drummer and guitarist share vocal duties on the wild ‘Strut My Stuff’, and the former struggles to stay on his stool during the set, leaping and half standing as he thrashes the fuck out of his kit, the nut flying off the cymbal near the end of the set. The chat between songs is awkward, but amusing, and the songs are pure power. They’re a pleasant, affable pair playing hairy, sweaty grunge, the songs often becoming two players screaming ‘aaaghahah’ over hefty guitar and pummelling drums, before bringing unexpected harmonies in the last couple of songs.

Fashion Tips, whose EP I covered a bit back, and was keen to witness live, emerge a lot less poppy and a lot harsher and noisier than anticipated on the basis of the recorded evidence, and the four-piece bring a spiky riot grrrl punk racket played hard and cranked up loud. With heavy synth grind and pumping drum machine and layers of feedback plus extraneous noise, their sound is in the region of Big Black meets Dr Mix meets Bis meets Selfish Cunt.

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Fashion Tips

Singer / synth masher Esme verbalises my thoughts perfectly when she comments on how tonight’s show is reminiscent of The Brudenell circa 2006 – it’s that low-key, lo-fi, direct engagement, band on-the-floor-and in-yer-face making unfashionable noise simply because vibe that does it, and seeing the likes of That Fucking Tank and Gum Takes Tooth playing to small but enthusiastic audiences of oddballs stands as something of a golden age in my mind. You can never recreate the past, at least not purposefully, and to pine in nostalgia is to grasp at emptiness – but sometimes, thing just happen, and this so proved to be one of those things, by accident and by circumstance rather than by design. Fashion Tips were nothing short of blistering with their abrasive antagonism. Fucking hell indeed.

Between Fashion Tips and Thank, Daughters’ You Won’t Get What You Want was blasting over the PA, reminding me of one of the most incredible and intense live shows I’ve ever born witness to.

Steve Myles always looks like he wants to murder the drum kit and he looks seriously fucking menacing as he starts tonight’s set, face low and focused as he thumps hard. To return to the topic of vintage Leeds, my introduction to Thank was in December 2016, supporting Oozing Wound at – where else? – the Brudenell. It got me out of a works Christmas do, and stands out as a belter in the games room, which stood as the second stage then, and Thank, decked in neon running gear stood out as being demented, but also quintessential Leeds alternative. They’re still blazing that trail and have gone from strength to strength, supporting the likes of Big ¦ Brave and maintaining a steady flow of releases – and of course, hardly play any of the songs from those releases tonight, because, well, that’s how they roll. When they erupt it’s a fierce racket. The bassist wrestles noise from a bass with a very long neck. It’s jolting, and it’s hard.

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Thank

The set is strung together by some mental banter, a rambling narrative that expands on a fictitious account of a dialogue between the band and the show’s promoter, Joe Coates, spanning several months. It’s amusing, and grows more surreal and more stupid as the set progresses – which is Thank all over. Amidst the endless slew of new material, there’s a song called ‘Woke Frasier’, the premise of which is…. if Frasier was woke. Of course. ‘Commemorative Coin’, old yet still unreleased, is a big tempo-changing beast of a tune, and encapsulates Thank perfectly – crazed, irreverent, and daft in the way only a northern act can be. Freddie is the perfect frontperson, balancing charisma with clumsiness in a way that’s charming and entertaining, but hits the mark when they go loud, too.

With three bands out of three delivering outstanding, and utterly full-on sets, you couldn’t ask for more on a Friday night – and pints for £3.50 is just a bonus. If you missed it, you missed out.

1st July 2021

Christopherr Nosnibor

No doubt it’s an age thing, but the title of this compilation from Leeds noisemakers Thank – a collection of everything they’ve released to date, which number three in total existing across a brace of EPs and a one-off single – makes me think of Maureen Lipman in the 1987 ad for BT when he grandson tells her he‘s failed all of his exams except pottery and sociology, and she famously cries, ‘He gets an ology and he says he’s failed… you get an ology you’re a scientist!’ I’m amused by this, and I have an A-level in Sociology, and I’m certainly no fucking scientist (I also have a PhD in English literature, and lot of good that’s done me, too). As a further pointless digression, the title also reminds me of the third album by another legendary Leeds band, That Fucking Tank.

This is relevant, because back in 2004 or so, Tank were ubiquitous, and proved to be an absolute revelation. It wasn’t that the DIY ethos was anything new – it emerged when punk broke, and has long been a major feature of the Leeds scene. Track back about 40 years and The Sisters of Mercy were representing Leeds internationally on their own label. Whatever bollocks recent governments have spouted, the North has always been a powerhouse of its own making. Free of the sway of whatever’s cool in London at any given time, the Noeth – and particularly Leeds – has forged its own identity and done its own thing. And Leeds has, over the last tent o fifteen years, been a city with a scene throwing up a lot of angular, noisy stuff.

Emerging from the DIY microscene centred around the rehearsal space / occasional gig venue that was CHUNK, Thank draw on a host of influences from home and away, but sound like no-one else.

That debut EP, Sexghost Hellscape, from 2017, was – and still is – a wonderfully deranged mash-up of all kinds of strains of noise, with throbbing synths and punchy fink-tinged post-punk basslines reminiscent of Gang of Four providing the backbone of some off-kilter blasts of noise and some ragged, shouty vocals. The insistent pounding of ‘Punching Bag’ – a dismal, depressed swipe at celebrity taking ‘Stars in Their Eyes’ as its starting target – has that twitchy relentlessness of Shellac about it, and it really only cuts loose right at the end. Thank get delayed gratification – and sometimes they really torture us: there’s no real gratification on the squirming, crawling eight-and-a-half-minute dirge of ‘Petrol Head’ that grinds mercilessly like early Swans. It has the roaring rage of hardcore, slowed to a glacial crawl, and it twists at the gut with its low, slow percussion-driven relentlessness.

Standalone single ‘The Curse’ is an anguished roar of rage – it’s sparse, mangled, messy, and comes on like Uniform minus the riffs. It’s pretty fucking dark and brutal.

Skip on to the last EP, and it’s an even more rabidly raging effort, harder, harsher, more furious. ‘Commemorative Coin’ ups the rage another forty percent. It’s like PIL on steroids: pink and fuck, but more articulate than some three-chord thrash, many time more oppressive and infinitely more powerful. In contrast ‘Think Less’ goes full 80s electro, but it’s jitter, jarring, a three-way collision between Talking Heads, Revolting Cocks, and DAF. It’s crazed, manic, and intense. ‘No Respect for the Arts’ is all-out, foaming-at-the-mouth frenzied. It’s raw. It’s passion, and it’s real. And they speak from the heart here. Please was released in the Autumn of 2019, and this reminds us that the arts were being battered to fuck long before the Covid pandemic shut everything down. Over the last decade, successive Tory governments have been shafting the arts from every whichway. Artists have a right to be angry, but so few articulate that anger so directly though their music. We have reason to thank Thank.

Thankology give us no fewer than ten reasons to thank Thank, They stand as the very epitome of the Leeds underground / alternative /DIY scene: uncompromising, unbeholden to trends, and doing it because they believe in it, and just because. Bands like this are rare these days, and Thank stand apart in these times.

For those who’ve had a taste, this will give the full flavour, and for the uninitiated, here it all is. Get stuck in.

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Christopher Nosnibor

CHUNK is a rehearsal space in Leeds which also puts on live shows. They’re the very epitome of DIY: it’s a couple of damp, crumbly rooms on an industrial estate some 40 minutes’ walk from the train station. They don’t have a license or a bar, so their gigs are BYOB, and they have a solid manifesto that stipulates ‘no bigots’. Divey as it may be, it’s a safe and accommodating space that’s crated its own scene, embracing the weird, the wild, the noisy, a hub for disparate outsiders. And I’ve seen a fair few decent gigs there, a fair few of which I’ve written about here, and in the company of decent people. Hell, I’ve even performed there: CHUNK facilitated my meeting with Paul, aka Foldhead, an event which would mark the arrival of a new musical entity in the form of …(something) ruined.

Spaces like this are rare these days. Everyone’s in it for the money, and no-one else has any. And so you have to love CHUNK for its commitment and integrity.

Sadly, commitment and integrity don’t pay bills, and this release is specifically pitched as a fundraiser for vital repairs. Less sadly, it’s a showcase of the acts who’ve emerged around CHUNK, and a celebration of the thriving underground scene in Leeds, which has recamped to CHUNK and Wharf Chambers now the Brudenell – ever-awesome as it is – has stepped up several notches from the student hangout it was a decade ago to a three-room venue of international standing. CHUNK have also expanded to a label branch – Voice of Chunk – to disseminate the works of the CHUNK community, and this release, on that label, captures the spirt of the scene perfectly.

This compilation reflects both the sense of community and the diversity of the scene centred around this space, and a fair few of the acts featured have been covered here at Aural Aggro.

The first track is a rough ‘n’ ready demo of a song Beige Place – whose debut live show I witnessed in this very venue – have been playing on their recent dates supporting Shellac. Yes, read and digest. Wonky, cronky, oddball, shouty no-image math-rock misfits from Leeds support Shellac on UK tour. And inexplicably divide Shellac fans. Kudos. This doesn’t actually need any more work, beyond perhaps mastering by Bob Weston. Its raw, ragged discomfort is everything it should be.

Cattle – who I’m elated to be featured on a bill alongside in February – bring a crashing swell of nihilistic nose with ‘Found in a Tract of Land’, and Cattle’s drummer Steve Myles also features on the contribution from Groak, who tossed ‘Lemnian Earth’ into the mix because they’re winding down and elected to support the venue instead of holding out hope of a new EP.

Elsewhere, M-G Dysfunction introduce an electronic element to the mix. Black Antlers impressed me when I caught their debut performance at CHUNK (where else?) in June, and the appearance of ‘Insomnia’ here marks their debut release, and showcases some brooding, shuddering electropop that comes on like a goth Goldfrapp or Zola Jesus without the operatics.

I’ve had the pleasure of bringing Territorial Gobbing to York, and as much of that pleasure was derived from observing the bewildered expression of many of the audience members. ‘Whose Big in the Karaoke Underground?’ is a disorientating mess of sounds, incongruous fragments, bleeps and bloops randomly spliced together, and Thank’s ‘Good Boy’ is noisy another highlight, although it sounds like it was recorded from the room next door. Meanwhile, Open’s ‘The Love Machine’ is an overloading, pounding psych racket, and Groak’s curtain closing ‘Lemnian Earth’ is s snarling, blackened assault that’s as raw as roadkill.

Having picked out some highlights, it’s worth pointing out that there isn’t really a duff or dull moment among the fourteen tracks here, and while not every act may be to everyone’s taste, that’s something to celebrate, being indicative of a scene that promotes diversity and where the most disparate acts perform side by side and support one another. Above all, this compilation shows – once again – how the Leeds alternative scene is thriving and continually producing new and exciting music by artists who dare to be different.

CHUNK is a rehearsal space in Leeds which also puts on live shows. They’re the very epitome of DIY: it’s a couple of damp, crumbly rooms on an industrial estate some 40 minutes’ walk from the train station. They don’t have a license or a bar, so their gigs are BYOB, and they have a solid manifesto that stipulates ‘no bigots’. Divey as it may be, it’s a safe and accommodating space that’s crated its own scene, embracing the weird, the wild, the noisy, a hub for disparate outsiders. And I’ve seen a fair few decent gigs there, a fair few of which I’ve written about here, and in the company of decent people. Hell, I’ve even performed there: CHUNK facilitated my meeting with Paul, aka Foldhead, an event which would mark the arrival of a new musical entity in the form of …(something) ruined.

Spaces like this are rare these days. Everyone’s in it for the money, and no-one else has any. And so you have to love CHUNK for its commitment and integrity.

Sadly, commitment and integrity don’t pay bills, and this release is specifically pitched as a fundraiser for vital repairs. Less sadly, it’s a showcase of the acts who’ve emerged around CHUNK, and a celebration of the thriving underground scene in Leeds, which has recamped to CHUNK and Wharf Chambers now the Brudenell – ever-awesome as it is – has stepped up several notches from the student hangout it was a decade ago to a three-room venue of international standing. CHUNK have also expanded to a label branch – Voice of Chunk – to disseminate the works of the CHUNK community, and this release, on that label, captures the spirt of the scene perfectly.

This compilation reflects both the sense of community and the diversity of the scene centred around this space, and a fair few of the acts featured have been covered here at Aural Aggro.

The first track is a rough ‘n’ ready demo of a song Beige Place – whose debut live show I witnessed in this very venue – have been playing on their recent dates supporting Shellac. Yes, read and digest. Wonky, cronky, oddball, shouty no-image math-rock misfits from Leeds support Shellac on UK tour. And inexplicably divide Shellac fans. Kudos. This doesn’t actually need any more work, beyond perhaps mastering by Bob Weston. Its raw, ragged discomfort is everything it should be.

Cattle – who I’m elated to be featured on a bill alongside in February – bring a crashing swell of nihilistic nose with ‘Found in a Tract of Land’, and Cattle’s drummer Steve Myles also features on the contribution from Groak, who tossed ‘Lemnian Earth’ into the mix because they’re winding down and elected to support the venue instead of holding out hope of a new EP.

Elsewhere, M-G Dysfunction introduce an electronic element to the mix. Black Antlers impressed me when I caught their debut performance at CHUNK (where else?) in June, and the appearance of ‘Insomnia’ here marks their debut release, and showcases some brooding, shuddering electropop that comes on like a goth Goldfrapp or Zola Jesus without the operatics.

I’ve had the pleasure of bringing Territorial Gobbing to York, and as much of that pleasure was derived from observing the bewildered expression of many of the audience members. ‘Whose Big in the Karaoke Underground?’ is a disorientating mess of sounds, incongruous fragments, bleeps and bloops randomly spliced together, and Thank’s ‘Good Boy’ is noisy another highlight, although it sounds like it was recorded from the room next door. Meanwhile, Open’s ‘The Love Machine’ is an overloading, pounding psych racket, and Groak’s curtain closing ‘Lemnian Earth’ is s snarling, blackened assault that’s as raw as roadkill.

Having picked out some highlights, it’s worth pointing out that there isn’t really a duff or dull moment among the fourteen tracks here, and while not every act may be to everyone’s taste, that’s something to celebrate, being indicative of a scene that promotes diversity and where the most disparate acts perform side by side and support one another. Above all, this compilation shows – once again – how the Leeds alternative scene is thriving and continually producing new and exciting music by artists who dare to be different. We need this space! Please support it.

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Sounds of CHUNK

Buzzhowl Records / EXAG

I caught Thank way back in December 2016, supporting Oozing Wound at The Brudenell in December 2016. Having a gig to review never fails as an excuse to leave a works night out early: it’s up there with a family emergency, only way cooler. Obviously, working with a bunch of straights who listen to whatever’s on the radio and have next to no concept of ‘alternative’, the sphere in which I exist and the music which is the focus of my ‘other’ job is completely beyond them,

The review of that night described Thank as something of a ‘“supergroup” collaboration between members of various bands, including Irk and Super Luxury’, clocking Irk’s front man Jack Gordon on drums, and Freddy Vinehill-Cliffe, bassist with Beige Palace, providing off-kilter vocals. And a lot of Day-Glo. On reflection, it’s probable that not a single member of Thank had been born when Day-Go was all the rage first time around. I remember my eye-watering acid yellow tennis socks with fondness. As I also now remember that show, meaning that a new release is most welcome.

‘Think Less’ prefaces the arrival of their second EP, ‘Please’, set for release in October, and finds another Leeds noise luminary, Theo Gowans adopt a permanent place in the latest lineup. It’s a wild frenzy of lo-budget industrial funk that throws together Cabaret Voltaire, Throbbing Gristle and early Nine Inch Nails into a blender, tossing in a messy vocal with an unashamedly northern accent and spraying the resultant snarling mess all over a chunky and deeply infectious cyclical groove that’s an instant earworm. Raw, ragged, jagged and all the better because of it, it’s cause to get excited.

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Thank - Please