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Cassette of the week | Hangin Freud – Sunken (Daddy Tank)

Cassette of the week | Hangin Freud – Sunken (Daddy Tank)
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By Lee Adcock

Girls don’t need to be giddy and blatantly physical to subvert the male cock-rock structure, y’know.

Sometimes, you need to play the victim.

Her voice. It’s always her voice. Yes, in this Sunken LP a bloke builds the tunes, and he’s the one that strips out the warmth in everything: he rips out chunks of the world until he and his wife are stranded on a narrow street in a Lovecraftian town, peeling back even the twisted demons that lurk below and leaving only the void.

But she’s staring down that void. She could jump. Or if not, she’s leaning very close. Or if not that, she’s crouched by the edge, brooding why this world is so heavy, why this life has worn her so thin.

Yeah, I know it’s only an act. But uhhhhhh. Her hopeless voice and his drifting skeleton sounds draw me ever deeper to the black, swirling mystery of a misery that no one (except her) has plumbed the depths of.

‘Truce’ kills me every time. I’m not kidding. I drown within her sullen lines, the guitar pushes me steadily under and I don’t resist (and neither does she).

And this is all the very reason why cassettes can still work. You slap something on a vinyl, and those record folk will bolt it out on their hi-fi speakers. But tapes – especially these days, when my brother asked me why I needed a CD drive for my laptop – are almost exclusively private things now. You have to find things and places old enough that still eat and spit cassettes. And even then, you’ll hear the sounds from within a fog – a light fog, sparse enough to see the horizon through, sure, but a fog nevertheless. Hangin Freud was born and will die within this fog.

My absolute fave tune, however, isn’t on the cassette, or even on the same label. And when I hear it (and I’m REALLY not kidding here), I’m lulled into a dance, a strange dance of falling to the floor and shielding the eyes and drifting in and out of my own control.

We can’t all be gleeful guitar/sex conquerors, y’know. Some of us need to step back from the scuffle and think this whole plan through.

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