It's not ambient. It's not post-rock. It's not doom or drone. And yet it does incorporate elements of all of the aforementioned. From the distant, gentle ambience that slowly fades in the start of 'Slave Driver', the first track on 'Let's Get it Straight', through the serene twitters of birdsong that introduces '10 Pound Trouble', delicate, gentle wafts of sound trickle and flit through the airwaves like zephyrs. Then there's 'Golfini', which is pure post-rock, expansive and spacious with dreamy guitar doodles floating over crackling synth waves and static in a wash of reverb.
Then again there are the heavier sections. Drone synths and church organs build monumental cathedrals of sound while massively overloading, distorted guitars bulldoze through everything, as is the case on 'From Blacks Void'. In between, there are mystical shoegaze sections - 'Choc Milk Addiction' is like a re-imagning of 'The Sun Rising' by The Beloved, with tribal drums and shimmering guitars - and chilled-put dance tracks, in the form of the dreamy, pulsating 'Cod & Chips'. Yes, the titles appear to be largely arbitrary and completely without relation to the songs themselves.
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There's little immediate about this album - except, perhaps, for the analogue groove and relentless percussion of the title track that could give Holy Fuck a run for their money - but it's definitely worth giving it time to breathe. It's a grower.
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