A/V post-punk/cold wave duo The KVB return to Invada with a gloomy, doomy clutch of Factory-soused "dystopian pop" songs that fall somewhere between New Order and Cabaret Voltaire.
If their last album 'Unity' was relatively hopeful, inspired by Slowdive and Ride, 'Tremors' is The KVB's flip-side, a Thatcher-era throwback that makes insightful connections between the unease of the '80s and the present's perpetually chilly political climate. Despite the desolation, Nicholas Wood and Kat Day still make music that's ostensibly pop, cutting their pessimistic themes with jerky drum machine loops, Peter Hook-style basslines and icy synths. It's only a stone's throw from the kind of gear Cold Cave were bolting together a decade or so back, but blessed with a kind of dejected but inviting shimmer that's captured our attention since the Visage days.
The title track is an easy highlight, with its chiming bassline, glum disco stomp and lackadaisical chorus. "When the lights are blaring," Wood moans. "And everyone is falling... away." It's New Order on tramadol, with the MDMA-assisted relish swapped for suspicion and skepticism. 'Overload' is more convincing, a more vigorous blast that still sounds downtrodden, but seems to look out from the city towards the sea, with its soaring guitar melodies and fluttering synths. "There is no choice," Wood assures, as a barrage of vintage kick drums goad us towards the dancefloor at the world's end.
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A/V post-punk/cold wave duo The KVB return to Invada with a gloomy, doomy clutch of Factory-soused "dystopian pop" songs that fall somewhere between New Order and Cabaret Voltaire.
If their last album 'Unity' was relatively hopeful, inspired by Slowdive and Ride, 'Tremors' is The KVB's flip-side, a Thatcher-era throwback that makes insightful connections between the unease of the '80s and the present's perpetually chilly political climate. Despite the desolation, Nicholas Wood and Kat Day still make music that's ostensibly pop, cutting their pessimistic themes with jerky drum machine loops, Peter Hook-style basslines and icy synths. It's only a stone's throw from the kind of gear Cold Cave were bolting together a decade or so back, but blessed with a kind of dejected but inviting shimmer that's captured our attention since the Visage days.
The title track is an easy highlight, with its chiming bassline, glum disco stomp and lackadaisical chorus. "When the lights are blaring," Wood moans. "And everyone is falling... away." It's New Order on tramadol, with the MDMA-assisted relish swapped for suspicion and skepticism. 'Overload' is more convincing, a more vigorous blast that still sounds downtrodden, but seems to look out from the city towards the sea, with its soaring guitar melodies and fluttering synths. "There is no choice," Wood assures, as a barrage of vintage kick drums goad us towards the dancefloor at the world's end.
A/V post-punk/cold wave duo The KVB return to Invada with a gloomy, doomy clutch of Factory-soused "dystopian pop" songs that fall somewhere between New Order and Cabaret Voltaire.
If their last album 'Unity' was relatively hopeful, inspired by Slowdive and Ride, 'Tremors' is The KVB's flip-side, a Thatcher-era throwback that makes insightful connections between the unease of the '80s and the present's perpetually chilly political climate. Despite the desolation, Nicholas Wood and Kat Day still make music that's ostensibly pop, cutting their pessimistic themes with jerky drum machine loops, Peter Hook-style basslines and icy synths. It's only a stone's throw from the kind of gear Cold Cave were bolting together a decade or so back, but blessed with a kind of dejected but inviting shimmer that's captured our attention since the Visage days.
The title track is an easy highlight, with its chiming bassline, glum disco stomp and lackadaisical chorus. "When the lights are blaring," Wood moans. "And everyone is falling... away." It's New Order on tramadol, with the MDMA-assisted relish swapped for suspicion and skepticism. 'Overload' is more convincing, a more vigorous blast that still sounds downtrodden, but seems to look out from the city towards the sea, with its soaring guitar melodies and fluttering synths. "There is no choice," Wood assures, as a barrage of vintage kick drums goad us towards the dancefloor at the world's end.
A/V post-punk/cold wave duo The KVB return to Invada with a gloomy, doomy clutch of Factory-soused "dystopian pop" songs that fall somewhere between New Order and Cabaret Voltaire.
If their last album 'Unity' was relatively hopeful, inspired by Slowdive and Ride, 'Tremors' is The KVB's flip-side, a Thatcher-era throwback that makes insightful connections between the unease of the '80s and the present's perpetually chilly political climate. Despite the desolation, Nicholas Wood and Kat Day still make music that's ostensibly pop, cutting their pessimistic themes with jerky drum machine loops, Peter Hook-style basslines and icy synths. It's only a stone's throw from the kind of gear Cold Cave were bolting together a decade or so back, but blessed with a kind of dejected but inviting shimmer that's captured our attention since the Visage days.
The title track is an easy highlight, with its chiming bassline, glum disco stomp and lackadaisical chorus. "When the lights are blaring," Wood moans. "And everyone is falling... away." It's New Order on tramadol, with the MDMA-assisted relish swapped for suspicion and skepticism. 'Overload' is more convincing, a more vigorous blast that still sounds downtrodden, but seems to look out from the city towards the sea, with its soaring guitar melodies and fluttering synths. "There is no choice," Wood assures, as a barrage of vintage kick drums goad us towards the dancefloor at the world's end.
Red colour vinyl.
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A/V post-punk/cold wave duo The KVB return to Invada with a gloomy, doomy clutch of Factory-soused "dystopian pop" songs that fall somewhere between New Order and Cabaret Voltaire.
If their last album 'Unity' was relatively hopeful, inspired by Slowdive and Ride, 'Tremors' is The KVB's flip-side, a Thatcher-era throwback that makes insightful connections between the unease of the '80s and the present's perpetually chilly political climate. Despite the desolation, Nicholas Wood and Kat Day still make music that's ostensibly pop, cutting their pessimistic themes with jerky drum machine loops, Peter Hook-style basslines and icy synths. It's only a stone's throw from the kind of gear Cold Cave were bolting together a decade or so back, but blessed with a kind of dejected but inviting shimmer that's captured our attention since the Visage days.
The title track is an easy highlight, with its chiming bassline, glum disco stomp and lackadaisical chorus. "When the lights are blaring," Wood moans. "And everyone is falling... away." It's New Order on tramadol, with the MDMA-assisted relish swapped for suspicion and skepticism. 'Overload' is more convincing, a more vigorous blast that still sounds downtrodden, but seems to look out from the city towards the sea, with its soaring guitar melodies and fluttering synths. "There is no choice," Wood assures, as a barrage of vintage kick drums goad us towards the dancefloor at the world's end.
Out of Stock
A/V post-punk/cold wave duo The KVB return to Invada with a gloomy, doomy clutch of Factory-soused "dystopian pop" songs that fall somewhere between New Order and Cabaret Voltaire.
If their last album 'Unity' was relatively hopeful, inspired by Slowdive and Ride, 'Tremors' is The KVB's flip-side, a Thatcher-era throwback that makes insightful connections between the unease of the '80s and the present's perpetually chilly political climate. Despite the desolation, Nicholas Wood and Kat Day still make music that's ostensibly pop, cutting their pessimistic themes with jerky drum machine loops, Peter Hook-style basslines and icy synths. It's only a stone's throw from the kind of gear Cold Cave were bolting together a decade or so back, but blessed with a kind of dejected but inviting shimmer that's captured our attention since the Visage days.
The title track is an easy highlight, with its chiming bassline, glum disco stomp and lackadaisical chorus. "When the lights are blaring," Wood moans. "And everyone is falling... away." It's New Order on tramadol, with the MDMA-assisted relish swapped for suspicion and skepticism. 'Overload' is more convincing, a more vigorous blast that still sounds downtrodden, but seems to look out from the city towards the sea, with its soaring guitar melodies and fluttering synths. "There is no choice," Wood assures, as a barrage of vintage kick drums goad us towards the dancefloor at the world's end.