" Manual not to commit suicide" a bold and brash debut: Shout have much to say and want to shout about loudly everything at once.
acid and a direct slap, twelve tracks that surrounded him fast and sharp with one foot in the alternator of the early '90s rock and the other feels that land from time to time more distinctly grunge, surf-rock, psychedelic.
They explore genres, sounds, styles and approaches, and re-shattering, revealing the skeleton in every track of their inspiration. Why
always lean structure and essential question, without frills, no makeup.
From loading and syncopated riffs of chlorine in the nose hypnotic bass de Love is a dog that is hell, hallucinated on prayer echoes Bukowski all'incipit up sluggish ironic and threatening Ninn ananna reversed.
A sharp rock, rough, splintered guitars are lame who can hurt the eardrums as I hope I die before I become Pete Townshend , but also provide powerful hits and hit in the stomach as in Hallelujah The lower , a wall of sound that goes to explode in the notes of a sax crazy.
The voice makes her way in a coherent and spontaneous linear and broken by the vortex of the music. Angry and wild as Tuna Ketchup , sweet and weary as Oh my darlin ' are ways that seem wise chemical bond with the contents of the surreal to the prosaic words.
But the vocal cords are made of Shout strong tools provided by technology, which in the tribal rhythms of Teflon is convoluted and indecipherable voices instruments.
There is no room for squaring the circle, and Shout give us the final proof of their more experimental and bold: Beans Lou Lou , two minutes of increasing dissonance, two and a half minutes of the final obsessive. E there is nothing else to say.
Manual does not commit suicide it tastes like: Turn on a blender full of vinyl
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