THE DEAD C
Trouble
Boomkat Product Review:
New Zealand’s arch experimental rockers, The Dead C, unbuckle and flop out as only they can, with the sprawling, immersive jams of Trouble for Ba Da Bing! staking out some of their strongest work bar none.
Still casually flipping the bird to notions of “pop” music or “progression”, Trouble finds the worshipped trio of Bruce Russell, Michael Morley and Robbie Yeats, who’re all still highly active individually, still fuelled on the kind of raw intuition that most bands run out of after their first year together.
Their improvisational instincts are as loose yet finely honed as ever, widely porous to each others influence and paradoxically as prickly, frictional as you might expect, rolling around like a gang of grinning pigs in their own shit and loving it.
Four of the five cuts on Trouble range between 15 and 21 minutes in length, leisurely allowing themselves enough time to let the southerly winds of inspiration dictate their course and see each jam thru to a satisfying conclusion and leaving bits of gristly distortion and shredded fingernail at the back of your teeth in the process.
They aren’t cheap or easy fixes, requiring the durational experience to get their point across, whatever that is, by making time elastic, unfixed to any grid other than a swirling grain pattern of distortion, in which they continue to colour out-of-the-lines with broad strokes of crunched, psychedelic harmonics and swelling beds of infinite, hypnotic drone, occasionally colour with traces of their own vocals.
It’s sludge metal, shoegaze, south pacific blues and psychedelia all at once, and yet none of the above; probably, simply better considered as proper, avant-guitared expressionism, and a gateway to new, unnamed sensations.
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Boomkat Product Review:
New Zealand’s arch experimental rockers, The Dead C, unbuckle and flop out as only they can, with the sprawling, immersive jams of Trouble for Ba Da Bing! staking out some of their strongest work bar none.
Still casually flipping the bird to notions of “pop” music or “progression”, Trouble finds the worshipped trio of Bruce Russell, Michael Morley and Robbie Yeats, who’re all still highly active individually, still fuelled on the kind of raw intuition that most bands run out of after their first year together.
Their improvisational instincts are as loose yet finely honed as ever, widely porous to each others influence and paradoxically as prickly, frictional as you might expect, rolling around like a gang of grinning pigs in their own shit and loving it.
Four of the five cuts on Trouble range between 15 and 21 minutes in length, leisurely allowing themselves enough time to let the southerly winds of inspiration dictate their course and see each jam thru to a satisfying conclusion and leaving bits of gristly distortion and shredded fingernail at the back of your teeth in the process.
They aren’t cheap or easy fixes, requiring the durational experience to get their point across, whatever that is, by making time elastic, unfixed to any grid other than a swirling grain pattern of distortion, in which they continue to colour out-of-the-lines with broad strokes of crunched, psychedelic harmonics and swelling beds of infinite, hypnotic drone, occasionally colour with traces of their own vocals.
It’s sludge metal, shoegaze, south pacific blues and psychedelia all at once, and yet none of the above; probably, simply better considered as proper, avant-guitared expressionism, and a gateway to new, unnamed sensations.
Boomkat Product Review:
New Zealand’s arch experimental rockers, The Dead C, unbuckle and flop out as only they can, with the sprawling, immersive jams of Trouble for Ba Da Bing! staking out some of their strongest work bar none.
Still casually flipping the bird to notions of “pop” music or “progression”, Trouble finds the worshipped trio of Bruce Russell, Michael Morley and Robbie Yeats, who’re all still highly active individually, still fuelled on the kind of raw intuition that most bands run out of after their first year together.
Their improvisational instincts are as loose yet finely honed as ever, widely porous to each others influence and paradoxically as prickly, frictional as you might expect, rolling around like a gang of grinning pigs in their own shit and loving it.
Four of the five cuts on Trouble range between 15 and 21 minutes in length, leisurely allowing themselves enough time to let the southerly winds of inspiration dictate their course and see each jam thru to a satisfying conclusion and leaving bits of gristly distortion and shredded fingernail at the back of your teeth in the process.
They aren’t cheap or easy fixes, requiring the durational experience to get their point across, whatever that is, by making time elastic, unfixed to any grid other than a swirling grain pattern of distortion, in which they continue to colour out-of-the-lines with broad strokes of crunched, psychedelic harmonics and swelling beds of infinite, hypnotic drone, occasionally colour with traces of their own vocals.
It’s sludge metal, shoegaze, south pacific blues and psychedelia all at once, and yet none of the above; probably, simply better considered as proper, avant-guitared expressionism, and a gateway to new, unnamed sensations.
Boomkat Product Review:
New Zealand’s arch experimental rockers, The Dead C, unbuckle and flop out as only they can, with the sprawling, immersive jams of Trouble for Ba Da Bing! staking out some of their strongest work bar none.
Still casually flipping the bird to notions of “pop” music or “progression”, Trouble finds the worshipped trio of Bruce Russell, Michael Morley and Robbie Yeats, who’re all still highly active individually, still fuelled on the kind of raw intuition that most bands run out of after their first year together.
Their improvisational instincts are as loose yet finely honed as ever, widely porous to each others influence and paradoxically as prickly, frictional as you might expect, rolling around like a gang of grinning pigs in their own shit and loving it.
Four of the five cuts on Trouble range between 15 and 21 minutes in length, leisurely allowing themselves enough time to let the southerly winds of inspiration dictate their course and see each jam thru to a satisfying conclusion and leaving bits of gristly distortion and shredded fingernail at the back of your teeth in the process.
They aren’t cheap or easy fixes, requiring the durational experience to get their point across, whatever that is, by making time elastic, unfixed to any grid other than a swirling grain pattern of distortion, in which they continue to colour out-of-the-lines with broad strokes of crunched, psychedelic harmonics and swelling beds of infinite, hypnotic drone, occasionally colour with traces of their own vocals.
It’s sludge metal, shoegaze, south pacific blues and psychedelia all at once, and yet none of the above; probably, simply better considered as proper, avant-guitared expressionism, and a gateway to new, unnamed sensations.
Gatefold 2LP
Out of Stock
Boomkat Product Review:
New Zealand’s arch experimental rockers, The Dead C, unbuckle and flop out as only they can, with the sprawling, immersive jams of Trouble for Ba Da Bing! staking out some of their strongest work bar none.
Still casually flipping the bird to notions of “pop” music or “progression”, Trouble finds the worshipped trio of Bruce Russell, Michael Morley and Robbie Yeats, who’re all still highly active individually, still fuelled on the kind of raw intuition that most bands run out of after their first year together.
Their improvisational instincts are as loose yet finely honed as ever, widely porous to each others influence and paradoxically as prickly, frictional as you might expect, rolling around like a gang of grinning pigs in their own shit and loving it.
Four of the five cuts on Trouble range between 15 and 21 minutes in length, leisurely allowing themselves enough time to let the southerly winds of inspiration dictate their course and see each jam thru to a satisfying conclusion and leaving bits of gristly distortion and shredded fingernail at the back of your teeth in the process.
They aren’t cheap or easy fixes, requiring the durational experience to get their point across, whatever that is, by making time elastic, unfixed to any grid other than a swirling grain pattern of distortion, in which they continue to colour out-of-the-lines with broad strokes of crunched, psychedelic harmonics and swelling beds of infinite, hypnotic drone, occasionally colour with traces of their own vocals.
It’s sludge metal, shoegaze, south pacific blues and psychedelia all at once, and yet none of the above; probably, simply better considered as proper, avant-guitared expressionism, and a gateway to new, unnamed sensations.
Out of Stock
Boomkat Product Review:
New Zealand’s arch experimental rockers, The Dead C, unbuckle and flop out as only they can, with the sprawling, immersive jams of Trouble for Ba Da Bing! staking out some of their strongest work bar none.
Still casually flipping the bird to notions of “pop” music or “progression”, Trouble finds the worshipped trio of Bruce Russell, Michael Morley and Robbie Yeats, who’re all still highly active individually, still fuelled on the kind of raw intuition that most bands run out of after their first year together.
Their improvisational instincts are as loose yet finely honed as ever, widely porous to each others influence and paradoxically as prickly, frictional as you might expect, rolling around like a gang of grinning pigs in their own shit and loving it.
Four of the five cuts on Trouble range between 15 and 21 minutes in length, leisurely allowing themselves enough time to let the southerly winds of inspiration dictate their course and see each jam thru to a satisfying conclusion and leaving bits of gristly distortion and shredded fingernail at the back of your teeth in the process.
They aren’t cheap or easy fixes, requiring the durational experience to get their point across, whatever that is, by making time elastic, unfixed to any grid other than a swirling grain pattern of distortion, in which they continue to colour out-of-the-lines with broad strokes of crunched, psychedelic harmonics and swelling beds of infinite, hypnotic drone, occasionally colour with traces of their own vocals.
It’s sludge metal, shoegaze, south pacific blues and psychedelia all at once, and yet none of the above; probably, simply better considered as proper, avant-guitared expressionism, and a gateway to new, unnamed sensations.
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