THE EDITED PRESS RELEASE: “Fairyland Codex is the fourth studio album from genre-bending Australian band Tropical Fuck Storm. Recorded with co-producer Michael Beach at the band’s Dodgy Brothers studio in Nagambie, these songs immerse us in the chaos of a fateful landslide, picking out the characters that litter the impending collapse of society.
The title track and single glints with gold tooth pleasantries and discordant love as a promise of everlasting affection reverberates alongside a thumping bass line. The accompanying video, directed by Alexandra Millen, is a kaleidoscopic adventure down at the pool which has a retro, new wave cinematic flair featuring feminist water ballerinas The Clamms and layered animation from Nespy 5 euro.
“Two languages jammed together clutching at sense like the rest of the world,” says bandmember Erica Dunn. “Marché: market, marché: walk, teeth: les dents, marcia marcia marcia: The Brady Bunch. The Teeth Market, The Teeth Walk, our attempt at a laid-back wonky jam which contemplates a vision of plunder that is played out in romance, in a climate emergency, in murderous political zeniths — those who take, take, take, lick their lips and want more.”
Tropical Fuck Storm formed when guitarist and vocalist Gareth Liddiard and bassist and vocalist Fiona Kitschin’s previous band The Drones went on hiatus in 2016. Joined by guitarist, keyboardist, and vocalist Dunn and drummer Lauren Hammel, they have released a string of critically acclaimed albums and gained a reputation for their incendiary live shows.
Acidic, acerbic, anarchic; Tropical Fuck Storm’s command of wordplay, underpinned by snarling guitars, pulsing rhythms, and explosive salvos, populates a hinterland between light and dark. The vocal interplay between Liddiard and the soaring harmonies of Kitschin and Dunn creates a teetering balancing act that’s intensified by the frantic narratives that evolve from their collective psyche.
“There’s an Anna Akhmatova poem where she talks about how much life sucks and how the world is just a shithole full of arseholes then she says something like, ‘Why then do we not despair?’ ” Liddiard pontificates. “Charles Darwin could give her the short answer, but music has the 12-inch metaphysical party-mix solution.”
