Instantly impressive is the post-Sebadoh, no-fi, NZ-influenced Double Morris project. They’re transmitting Best of the Hightone Years through a toilet-paper tube, so you have to listen like a motherfucker before you even realize the lyrics are still, in fact, unintelligible. Doesn’t matter. A lot of drama baked into these indie brownie bites/bread bowls, and a lot of indifference, too. Why is that so goddamn attractive to the ear? This fuckin’ simp sounds totally emasculated and even emaciated, yet it makes perfect sense to the warped mind. Probably drools on the mic, too. Tracey Trance should check this out if he hasn’t already. The riffs are piledriver-simple, save a few delightful examples, the noisy sections scrape by satisfactorily, and the songs jerk to a halt like the snap of a turkey neck before you effin’ know what hit you. It’s like listening to The Germs, Pumice, and good ol’ D.J. wrapped into one, though obviously Double Morris still have a ton of work to do. There’s a few instrumentals on here that veer away from that premise entirely, however, so don’t expect a quick walk-through. Not what you’d expect from Pilgrim Talk, and thus is an even more impressive find for this busy imprint.
More about: Double Morris
