Local Features

Sadly the whole thing’s over in about 15 minutes… but check them out nonetheless.

Spoelstra’s debut LP is a marvellous thing, if only for its utter refusal to do anything it doesn’t want.

It’s a long time I heard any band so wound up and truculent, to be honest.

An undemanding listen if you are undemanding, and sympathetic presence if you are looking for something more.

They are Belgian, therefore very prone to introspection – you just knew there’d be a song called Fear...

Laments are this band’s priority. There is a lot of Nick Cave at times (Misery and the title track owe a lot to Murder Ballads), but if handled well, that is always a good thing.

The LP is a reflective series of soundscapes dealing with composer Melvin Wevers’ trip to the USA in 2006 and not surprisingly has the feeling of a documentary soundtrack to it.

Despite the jocular inner sleeve artwork, and the odd moment of noodling around with the odd minor chord, there’s something very alien and angry about this LP.

 A highly enjoyable slab of screaming (well, high pitched) thrash pop, this record.

On Boring Combination the classic line is uttered: “Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll/It’s the most boring thing in the world/And I’m here to ruin your night…” Ooofph.

Clash, bang, clatter, clatter.

If your train is late and you’re listening to this you’ll feel like it’s the end of the world.

Heck, take it from a lazy cliche-spewing hack, for even a half-decent scope-out of today's indie music scene you pretty much need this.

Dark, Gothick and magnificent. If you like this sort of dark folk/drone release, it’s indispensible.

a great big fucking skip load of potential

Leave us alone. We’ll just wallow here in the rain, with our hair flopping in front of our eyes as our stripey woollen jumpers get ever heavier, absorbing all the moisture and the die in our saggy arsed jeans begins to run and tie-dye our underpants.

I’d recommend you have a Campari & Soda and stick this on at your next fondue party, swingers.

There’s always the feeling of the open road inherent in their music, maybe it’s that endlessly thumping rhythm section…

Drawing on a host of recognisable influences, Something Ain’t Wrong nevertheless does what all truly great records do; it synthesizes all the sum of its parts into a meaningful, coherent and attractive body of work...

It might be looking firmly at 1967, but it’s still great.