Best Music of 2016, Part 5
Australia's best record label (whenever to forever), Dream Damage, put out a new tape last month from (yet another) fairly mysterious character, Thunderbolt City. Early rumours in Facebook threads where such things are discussed at length led to a mis-diagnosis that this was Mr Bobby Kill (aka TV Colours) cleaned up a bit, given the power-punk similarities, lust for musings on the mundane etc. Turns out that's a theory not too far off, with main man Carey Paterson playing in the full-band version of TV Colours, as well as one of Canberra's other great bands, The Fighting League. Chris Hearn (presumably not Mr Alps?) and Peter Krbavac complete the trio, who are unfortunately currently split between Australia and New York, making live shows highly unlikely. Shame, as that's the ideal setting for this limb-flinging, beer-can-smashing pleasure. Beautifully big in bits, sun-chasing pop-punk simplicity in others. Four of the best songs this side of January 1st, 2016. Do yourself a solid.
The new one from Ceres, Drag It Down On You, is an absolute corker, smashing that tender gooch region between the blasting big-swinging-balls of chuck-ya-celebratory-hands-up and the tenderness of that softer space. Wrote some slightly more eloquent things about the album over here, as well as did this little review (for RS #778, out this Thursday):
On previous album I Don't Want To Be Anywhere But Here, Melbourne quartet Ceres compartmentalised their contrasting methods of heart-sleeved balladry and pub-punk revelry. Here, there's significantly less segregation and, through a constant arm-wrestle between fist-pumped fury and emo transparency, a far more free-flowing and emotionally complex record emerges. This unravelling of densely-packed ideas is never better displayed than on "Choke", a track that compliments its emotional indecisiveness — hopeful euphoria vs. martyrised regret — with a transition from scrappy acoustic strum to an unhinged pop-punk ambush.
For the sober days that follow all the self-harming dissipation of above, there's Psychopomp, the first legit full-length from Michelle Zauner (aka Japanese Breakfast). There's some subtle suggestions of '90s indie-rock nostalgia that tickles some part of my subconscious, but I think it's the over-reaching wide-eyed glow that is album its immediate draw. The perfect midpoint between the required solace for Sunday staleness and the optimistic fuel for a Monday lift.