Song of the day – 557: Greg Boring
I’m immediately reminded of Kid Koala. Something about the faux authenticity. (Oh God, let’s not start this again. Please. It’s a description of what’s going down. You don’t have to take everything I write negatively.) Ah fuck it. Now I’m going to have to listen to Kid Koala for the next 3.24 minutes. OK. (Shrugs.) So be it. Let’s all have a listen. Mournful, slipping brass and the occasional pierce of blatant honesty. This is what I imagine people to be singing as they pass me in the street, if they notice me at all.
Ah. We back yet? Good. I want to throw in a line about how – Brisbane being small as it is, and most people having no truck with Outsiders – I’ve played on stage and in rooms with at least half these people, and quite possibly more. I don’t think this colours my appreciation. (What a laughably risible assertation that is! So easily disproved) The woman singing in the video below (let’s call her Sarah) (because that’s her name) is in at least 13 of the most interesting music projects in SEQ, and those Christmas tree fairly lights are in at least 7 more. The only reason I wouldn’t be loving this music is because I’d be jealous I’m not up there myself and I ain’t that petty minded. Least not yet. Least not about music like this that I love and have to work at loving and love anyway and, glove. Angular, and woozy. Sharp and disorientating like that umbrella which was slashed across my bad leg on the bus this morning. (Great use of simile, sir. Great use of simile.)
Here’s what I’m talking about.
Wait. I recognise this venue. There’s a high pitch of intensity matched only by the high pitch of irritating. Oh, please. Why do you have to take everything I write so negatively? This is fascination, the serious moonlight. It bothers me that more record labels don’t get behind more music like this instead preferring to champion the mediocre, the conventional and the copyist.
Let’s get to the album, Heavy Syrup. Louder Than War reckons the opening ‘Denuder’ on (which is my favourite) (because it’s the only one I’ve listened to) sounds like… well, let’s let them tell it, shall we?:
the opening “Denuder” sounding largely like some drunk people all playing completely different tunes at once on broken synthesisers.
This description is an old music criticism standby, but – yet – alone, it is enough to make me think Greg Boring are more interesting than three of your alt-j’s. Um. Damned by the faintest of… that’s not even praise, is it?
I lied. I’ve heard the second track, too. ‘Fine Find Fined’. If ever a description “it rocks” was inapplicable, this is the time. This of course is perhaps the highest compliment going. Who wants to be Tame Impala?
Drowned In Sound says this:
The two-chord plodding of Greg Boring’s ‘Huh’ could be that of a child, engrossed by the instrument and sound s/he has discovered, lacking any socially constructed reverence for adult musical conventions, distracted from the murder of his/her toy-talking-telephone in the next room.
….which makes me think that perhaps a few too many people have been reading Collapse Board and it’s long overdue time they got back to The Establishment because fuck man, this kind of enjoyably obtuse and evocative music writing throws me somewhat dazed into a corner where, throbbing and lisping like menopause, I can but helplessly listen to and enjoy and suckle song after song after song (misleading term) from the Greg Boring album. Which is called Heavy Syrup, like your grandmother’s treacle.
DiS goes on to add:
ALL SYNTHESISERS ARE SQUELCHY BUT SOME SYNTHESISERS ARE MORE SQUELCHY THAN OTHERS.
… and my hands are already raised. All right guv, straight up. It’s a fair cop. You got me. I’m immediately reminded of this (but not really):
…but I have way more knowledge than you, so fuck you.
Oh, and this:
This music does not stay static long enough for you, me or Dom Alessio to be able to describe. Not that all of it is good. Are you crazy? Of course not all of it’s good. Define ‘good’. Some of it sounds like off-cuts from a particularly stoned session playing around with Primitive Motion’s keyboard sets. Some of it is squelchy just for the sake of being squelchy. But none of it is dull.
IF YOU CLICK ON ONLY ONE LINK IT MUST BE THIS: The Crawlspace interview
The title of the Greg Boring album is also the title of an ace NYC record label. Hear here:
One day I will have friends like these people, and my life will be grand indeed.
I would supply y’awl with the one-liner for the press release, but I’m sure it’s been supplied already. Oh, wtf:
Greg Boring are neither Greg nor Boring
Photograph stolen from Blanket Canvassing (which looks to be a very fine blog indeed, btw).