While they only really have two settings – playful fuzzy indie with faux-naive melodies or thrashy, overdriven stuttering garage rock – there’s a discreet charm and a dry, deadpan, decidedly odd Northern sense of humour that makes their style their own, sounding like they’re taking whatever approach occurs to them at the moment of recording without ever becoming self-indulgent. Wildlife comes in at eighteen tracks, six less than a minute long, but such is their nuts scope it maybe doesn’t matter that only half of them are more than scraps and skewed oddities. What makes it work within the Lovely Eggs’ specific world, bringing with it a growing and increasingly devoted live following, is that their their DIY, “throw it at a wall of twee noise in case it sticks” approach is so scattershot that they almost seem to be achieving their aim accidentally, in such a way that a track like this third album’s title track – in which Ross witheringly reels off an inventory of insects between guitar stabs over bird noises – comes across as normal, if only to them. The bringing together of shouty vocals, surrealist sometimes almost nursery rhyme, absurdism and a superfuzz guitar tone indebted to the early ’90s American underground might in lesser hands act as an active deterrent perhaps for all future music consumption. The path that Holly Ross and David Blackwell have trod as The Lovely Eggs is quite a singular one.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |