As another notch in Brisbane's underground belt comes to the surface yet again, we can rejoice in the brooding apocalyptic debut long-player from Martyr Privates, which syncopates the gurgling death waltz of the most prime selections of Australian post punk, with an atmospheric wall of noisy pop, washing away the frivolities, and leaving nothing else but the bare reality. Formed back in 2011 and with only a lone 7" release under their belt so far, this album collects tracks recorded in the interim, and charges forward an almost polished catastrophe of dark pop songs that will leave you in a state of suspended euphoria, and will have you grasping for comparisons like a hungry-hungry hippo. The three-piece unit has their historical cues on lock and monotonously blazes through each head-expanding track with a bravado and soaring confidence that's so sorely missing from today's crop of adventurists, culling instantly-memorable cuts from drab scraps of the not-so-distant past and stitching them onto the face of today's ever-growing heap of sick Aussie talent.
With a mid-tempo growl that permeates each track on their debut LP, Martyr Privates stick to the evil grind of the early Echo & the Bunnymen, The Church, and The Moodists on some tracks and devolve into anthemic rush-inducing avalanches of pummeling noise on others, culminating with an album that's perfect for the impending and endless grayness of daylight savings time that's sadly upon us. Not to mention the seeping tar fumes from the Russian guys slopping sealer on the roof of my old building. All in, an incredible debut that's got all the penetration and promise of anything that stands leering before it, and a powerful stroke of murky pop and devolved noise that's as lubricious and essential as any of their contemporaries, an instant classic you shasn't live without.
STREAM the whole LP right here, and pick up a copy from Fire Records (UK) or Bedroom Suck Records (AUS)
