Song of the day – 605: Gravel Samwidge
Gravel Samwidge. I guess it’s SEQ humour.
I know who this sounds like. You think that bothers me? You crazy, girl. Why would that bother me? That’s what I like about Gravel Samwidge: they’re spitefully commercially unfriendly but simultaneously cuddly and comforting if you know just where to tickle the noise hairs. It sounds like this, only with a more grungy edge to the amateur blues:
Every town should have one. Does Melbourne? Yes. Did Leeds? Yes.
Does Seattle? Well, does it…? Olympia’s got 10. Camden Town used to have about 3o0. Birmingham of course had one of the greatest. (Still has, last time I looked.)
Even Amsterdam’s got one. (One? What am I talking?)
I really appreciate any music that sounds this sludgy and acerbic and sarcastic. Music that captures a moment in time, and doesn’t move forwards, only sideways. I really appreciate any music that makes me feel a little less alone. I really appreciate any music that can remind me of music that’s actually near-impossible to duplicate but tries anyway and gloriously, deliriously fails. Music that makes me shuffle backwards and forwards, rooted on the spot, waving my non-hair in abandon. In my head, I’m dancing. Always dancing. In my head, I’m surrounded by music like this and I’m leaning out of a third-flight window throwing whiskey bottles at the dullards below. In my head, this is the sound to aim for: drawn-out and lingering and not a little woozy. Everything is a failed climax.
Everything is anchovies.
The album is free over at the BandCamp if you choose to make it that way. Go on, knock yourselves out.
The quote for the treetop walks reads:
Glorious sludge rock from Brisbane’s Gravel Samwidge. Bang fucking bang.