“There’s a flicker and twitching of intricate rhythms, there’s a soul to the guts of the song. In a head-spin of hazy, half-lazy quick sounds that weave punk, Afro-garage and grime…”
London
“With every single released, we get closer and closer to that scrappy and idiosyncratic alchemy that Brix Smith has always exuded…”
With a single that’s let loose today, with shoegaze 90s jangle and a femme Britpop prowess that runs between Sleeper and Lush, it’s my chance to catch up and dig deep…
“It’s a dormant pop gem with a bubblegum agro and it’s blissfully short, sharp and raucous.”
“With a keen eye for harsh words and wiry thin riffs, an ‘I’m doing my thing so screw you’ attitude… Madame So’s brand of force is infectious.”
Citing Pixies as a reference is dangerous. Yes we recall their scratchy prowess over throwaway stripped surf and […]
“These are intimate songs of depression. Violent introspections, self-examinations, self-worth imposed and assumed…”
A gutterslung duo of smoke-smothered sand-blasted southern-stomp rock. A raw dirtbomb squalor of holler and grind. Gnawed gurning riffs, hymn crushing hooks, and a mean blast of bloody punch drums.
“Here, for a moment, for the length of an album, the rule of imagination is king and anything might just be possible. Beauty and brutal included.”
“40 years worth of love and half blind adoration has gathered us here to sing to hymns from ‘The Crack’; The Ruts ’79 debut album. Thick with punk’s grit and gristle and dub-reggae tricks it’s a head above pure protest thrash.”
