Friday’s Holy Trinity HT001

by sfe medusa

Friday’s Holy Trinity will be a weekly review of three films, events or records that, when consumed together, result in a state of total cosmic symbiosis.
HT001 is music-orientated in its comments on the latest album releases from Bicep, Mount Kimbie and King Krule: Bicep, Love What Survives and The OOZ, respectively.  bicep-album-sleeve-ninja-tunelovewhatsurvivesKINGKRULE_THEOOZ_COVER_310717

I have spent the last week existing happily in the sonic photosphere of Bicep’s self-titled debut (their upcoming set at Printworks, alongside Helena Hauff and Dark Sky, is bound to be a rattler), punctuated by an energetic performance by King Krule and the pals of Peckham on Later… With Jools Holland, all in the prickling afterglow of a Mount Kimbie marathon.

The concordance of these albums lie in their rippling anti-millennial millennialism, a crass but accurate summary of the accessibly experimental tendencies of their sound.
These are for the troops who are into video-installation art, minimalist-style collaged gig posters and lo-fi culture. The music is self-consciously obstinate and is wearing a second-hand Patagonia T-shirt.

King Krule, back with gargling lyricism, mumbles in pitches varying from loudly articulated emotional torment to losing an argument, Mount Kimbie’s cleverly collaborated Love What Survives goes full-throttle in its manic frustrations; all rhythmic drum frenzies and alternative-rock riffs that threaten to release the suppressed ardour of a twenty-five-year-old still embarrassed by vulnerability. Bicep is, frankly, expected: its tripped and re-worked sounds of the Nineties are soothing in their familiarity, because they’re what the Belfast duo have been curating since the start of FEEL MY BICEP. The album feels more like a retrospect than a starting-point.

Special love to the tangential wanderings on Cadet Limbo [KK], James Blake’s pious hollering on We Go Home Together [MK] and the chronic dance-inducing Rain [B].