…such is the hothouse atmosphere of the music that four tracks are more than enough to digest at first sitting: this no-nonsense and often angsty EP really leaves its mark with the attitude that is cut deep into the recording and an obvious, essential part of the band’s DNA.
…such is the hothouse atmosphere of the music that four tracks are more than enough to digest at first sitting: this no-nonsense and often angsty EP really leaves its mark with the attitude that is cut deep into the recording and an obvious, essential part of the band’s DNA.
http://twotearsforbarbarella.bandcamp.com/
This band got in touch in the hope of sorting out a tour, but this being Incendiary magazine (you know, that rare thing called a music reviews website), we ended up reviewing their EP instead. We recommend it too: despite it sounding like a classic bedsit release (often with attitudes and poses to match) as it’s a powerful, and occasionally supercharged listen.
In fact, such is the hothouse atmosphere of the music that four tracks are more than enough to digest at first sitting: this no-nonsense and often angsty EP really leaves its mark with the attitude that is cut deep into the recording and an obvious, essential part of the band’s DNA. The opener, Music Lungs, makes an uneasy pact with the sort of metronomic, unfussy beat used in those early Talking Heads LPs with a screaming, Throwing Muses / Babes in Toyland attitude: it’s damned effective too. I think it’s safe to say that despite the straightforward arrangements Hidden Depths is concerned with working out a bunch of personal issues, and you often feel you are intruding on a lot of things you shouldn’t be: I Don’t Believe In Astrology is a weird, slightly abstract stream of consciousness about something I can’t quite put my finger on, but it sounds a wee bit menacing nonetheless. There’s talk of unclean, unwanted things creeping up inside bodies… And Riot Skirts is no more than a very moody, very personal vendetta (there’s talk of knives being strapped to thighs), a track that switches between a soliloquy and a screaming fit. Finally, Chlorophyll returns to the steady beat of the opener, but it’s still brim-full of menace.
Powerful, intriguing stuff.