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The Trendees 12"

15.00

We Are Sonic Art is a stupid phrase but we are grateful for it’s pompous vapid powers. This music was inspired by indifference, small towns and cold winds.

For fans of Electric Eels, Kitchens Floor and The Stooges.

“If their fantastic new EP We Are Sonic Art is any indication, expect a fine squall of garage-noise-pop somewhere between the pre-punk isolation of Mid-west 70s isolates like Half Japanese and Electric Eels, and somewhat later, more obviously revisionist approach of more knowing primitives, like Pussy Galore, Kitchen’s Floor and Mad Nanna – certainly I haven’t heard a band like this play in town since the loss of the mighty Aesthetics. As such a comparison suggests, there’s a balance robustly explored between the simplicities of minimalism and the expressive possibilities the approach allows through the cracks. This creates a pretty messy racket, channelling songs seemingly drawn from the small frustrations and curiosities of genteel provincial life, and channelling them forcefully through the kind of rigidly enclosed sonic atonality we all want to see the boring and genteel parts of our lives forced through. Or perhaps other people’s lives.” -
Campbell Walker, Dunedin.

“Mounting frustration caused this – it felt like it might be the last time. The four track was set up on the ironing board. We felt pissed off and ignored. We played our songs slurping on beer and snarling stupid between takes. There were cords everywhere slack and trodden. Piles of paper with felt tip words in a corner by the mic stand. Power Waves came out early and I sang it feeling dumb looking out the window at the same patch of water in the lyric. Sometimes we stamped our feet, yelled or jerked unintentionally. Formula was much later and by this stage I had cleared out for more space to whirl about in the far end of the room, hunched over howling everything before I collapsed. The performances had become increasingly careless and unhinged. We felt giddy. Afterwards someone got some cheap champagne and we sat on the bonnet of Austen’s car. It was sunny. We felt good.” – Matt Plunkett, Oamaru.

Alberts Basement 2017