WHO ARE THEY? A gang of Australian weirdos featuring Gareth Liddiard and Fiona Kitschin of beloved Antipodean art-punk cult heroes The Drones. And a band whose seriously skewed, post-psychedelic brand of indie-rock is almost as audacious as their name.
WHAT IS THIS? Their sophomore album and the slump-dodging followup to last year’s freaky and fantastic debut A Laughing Death in Meatspace.
WHAT DOES IT SOUND LIKE? A cross between a wild fever dream, an unsettling drug trip, a groovier version of Captain Beefheart’s Doc at the Radar Station and an Australian arthouse movie soundtrack.
WHAT WOULD BE A BETTER TITLE FOR THIS ALBUM? Back to The Outback.
HOW SHOULD I LISTEN TO IT? Being straight seems counterproductive.
WHAT 10 WORDS DESCRIBE IT? Weird, messy, noisy, off-kilter, angular, trippy, dissonant, woozy, compelling, experimental.
WHAT ARE THE BEST SONGS? The relatively poppy Who’s My Eugene and The Happiest Guy Around are probably the easiest entry points. But once you get into it, you won’t want to leave.
WHAT WILL MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY SAY? ‘Just what the hell is a Tropical Fuck Storm anyway?’
HOW OFTEN WILL I LISTEN TO THIS? Whenever the going gets weird. So pretty damn regularly.
IF THIS ALBUM WERE A MENTAL CONDITION, WHAT CONDITION WOULD IT BE? Paranoid schizophrenia.
SHOULD I BUY, STREAM OR STEAL IT? Well, it’s not like they’re going to make any money from radio airplay.
