Furrowed Brow

Abstract: This EP is a zesty chorus stratagem of drain-pipe bass lines, journeyman synthesizations, moderate baritone delivery, candid fills and 6-stringed nuances which sail alongside tri-timbre-d lyrics that provoke humour, adds colour to the pallet of the mundane   and tastefully ventures into the distasteful without catering toward frightful yacht-rockisms or baseless complaints towards imaginary authority figures. Steal a bar and eat a car as they say.

Dead Dead Dead Still Digging: The rhythm’s enthusiasm (the bass in particular) appears to imply that unearthing dirt is something to enjoy. Soon enough, the rest of the instruments join in, which elevates the activity to a euphoric status? As I child, when I used to dig in my garden, all I would ever find is clay and worms, and this black rock that I thought might be of value but… in actually it was not. The guitar’s venture into a moderate frenzy quite possibly ties in with the frustration the lack of discovery/reward digging tends to bring.

That’s Why I’m A Ponce: With regard to the synthesiser, envision Haromi Hosono walking into a shop that just so happens to contain an assortment of them; he observes that the store policy is DO NOT TOUCH, yet he takes no heed of it, and starts randomly pressing buttons and twisting knobs while the unprepared shop assistant(s) stare in disbelief as to why he is playing those particular chords at this given time. The decision to spell out a certain 5 letter word indicates an emphasis of identity; ala, existentialism? The definition varies but you needn’t be a man with an oversized moustache to over analyse.

My Bone Idle Idol: A spoken word, stream of conscious… observation of life within the Mancunian Oblast? The plucking from the guitar could accompany a video close up of spiders doing spider-centric activities, and if laziness could be represented as a pedestal, this track would appear on a nearby speaker system within earshot of the stated, yet elevated platform. The quantity of ‘yeahs!’ featured is more prevalent than when they are shouted at the climax of a successful pyramid scheme induction ceremony.

Killed Myself and the Kids: Homo sapiens are oft-startled by black humour, as though they fear someone will be inclined to throw a garden ornament at them if caught displaying positive reception toward that variant of jest. Anyway, the bass and the synthesiser do the juxtaposition shtick to the lyrics, while the prevalent beat of the drum comes off as an aged arcade game’s punch sound-bite, fittingly. This may seem unrelated, but the last thing I put in my oven happened to be 3 waffles; now think for a second, how many spaces are there in each waffle? 20, depending on the brand. Now, count the number of tracks on this EP? 5, it seems. Place these findings within the context of multiplication: 5 X 20… =100? The answer’s Roman numeral? Tis believed to be: C… and the succeeding track’s first letter?

Cool as Hell: The foreshadowed resolution of woes, as Extended Play closer. The opening sounds like the soundtrack of a documentary, specifically at the point where the laborious efforts of the doc’s subject finally lead to fruition; let’s say a rag rug business struggling to survive due to the emergence of a rival raglomerate sucking up all the revenue, only for the underdogs to secure a government grant which keeps them afloat in the midst of this great entrepreneurial conflict. The backing vocal represents something out of body, compared to the lead vocal, which feels like it’s within your (meaning listener’s) head, like an introspective narration. Added to that is the whistling combined with the Meat Puppets guitar-transient plucking (a motif?) implying that reality is being blurred.

Conclusion: Yes, with cigar.

Furrowed Brow: Dead Dead Dead Still Digging EP  – Out Now

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Angus Rolland

Recent career decisions have compelled me into the journalistic... thing; I could list my literary influences or even debate which 3rd rate beverage has the best economic value per litre (But I won’t). Oh, in addition, I write reviews for the Independents Network.