Showing posts with label Taipan Tiger Girls. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Taipan Tiger Girls. Show all posts
Tuesday, 1 September 2015
It Doubles
It Records has two great new releases to announce (after the excellent 1, the album from Taipan Tiger Girls that I wrote about here). First up is power doom electronic duo Armour Group. Their LP Purge (jointly released by Trait Records) promises to be a punishing listen if the title track is anything to go by. Four minutes of pounding percussion, distorted loudspeaker spittle sermonizing, a looped sample of someone stating that to psychologically advance he must purge himself... Obsessed with the darker proclivities of human desire, Purge is nihilistic, obliterating, devastating.
Secondly there is the announcement that gothic electronic act Mollusc is also joining the fold. The duo have just released this tape as a precursor of a new effort. The six tracks here interlace to create a soundscape of domination, electronic vice and gloss veneer with a seedy underside. In short, it's the kind of gritty goth post-punk that should score a 21st remake of Cherry 2000 directed by Kathryn Bigelow (and if you don't know what I'm talking about, head here and sort out your lack of Melanie Griffiths knowledge stat).
Friday, 21 August 2015
Taipan Tiger Girls
Here is some heavyweight weirdnik noise outta Melbourne to see off the week. Taipan Tiger Girls have just released their album 1 on it Records (check it out here - there are only 100 vinyl copies made, and at least 30 sold, so search the web to hunt down these elusive gems), and it is mind-melting/blowing. 'Ritual' is an 11 minute krautrock mantra swirling in incremental metallic drag that picks up the tempo into a tribal slam, grinds out into a heady noise fever and coalesces infinitesimally into the ether. The rest of the tracks are splintered tangents off this amorphous statement of intent - the spidery percussion and fever-dream synth on 'Spiral' mesmerises; 'Ascending' squalls its way out of the sonic womb, mewling in a psychotropic industrial nightmare; 'Motion' propels headlong into the apocalyptic wastes, a car chase of wanton and inevitable destruction. 'Imprint' sends us off with pitch-shifting altered states, no longer aware of a line between fantasy and reality, euphoria and tinnitus. Brilliant.
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