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 Everett True

Spotlight – 23: No Anchor

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I’ll be blunt here. These guys praised me, so I thought I’d check their shit out.

Seems like I’ve been yearning for a little of this recently.

My iTunes has been flickering between Pissed Jeans and Wavves, Crocodiles, recs of the flesh, Melbourne’s Witch Hats (who are Australia’s greatest rock band when The Drones are out the country) and Arrington de Dionyso even (The Pop Group tangled with the occult) – not that I can usually allow it because I have a family after all, and we don’t need further competition in the noise stakes, and not that No Anchor sound like any of the aforementioned.

But, as I say, it seems like there’s a part of me that is forever a Jesus Lizard fan (not that I’ve ever listened to one of their records all the way through), who likes it when the music gets heavier and the atmosphere more humid, the guitar more distorted, the drums ricochet and rattle, and every other riff sounds like it wants to break into ‘War Pigs’… that misses the camaraderie of sweat-glistening torsos and nicotine-sweet hair. That thinks perhaps Harvey Milk are pretty damn good even if they’ve got a stupid name.

Anyway, there’s two of them in No Anchor, they’re from Brisbane – and one can be seen sporting a Big Black T-shirt, which is probably an indication of something or other, damned if I can figure out what, right now.

Bring on the sludge, say I. Bring on the sludge.

(Least, I assume it was praise.)

P.S. Don’t try this at home. I usually fucking despise people who praise me.

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