candy darling

damn – we are a tad fond of this, debuting platter from Bristol based combo Candy Darling whose press release rejoices in the revelation that these dudes forged alliances by way of a love for proto punk trash, rock n’ roll and noir romanticism which any regular visitor to these pages will know is worthy reason enough to guarantee adoration in the bijou confines afforded by the Sunday Experiences’ listening space beneath the stairs. Due for record counter damage in September wherein it’ll come pressed up on 7 inch slabs of pink wax ’money’ leads the charge on this twin pronged salvo, clearly the work of Suicide disciples, this minimalist slab of death discofied Dadaism scowls, agitates and broods like a stripped bare to the bone Xmal Deutschland icily crafting chilling mind warping subliminal sonar waves. ’temples’ over on the flip (well we assume and hope its on the flip) is equipped with the kind of ghostly aural apertures more commonly associated by tracks sound boarding David Lynch flicks, a shade adorned twang tinged dark beauty that purrs sorrowfully possessed of an opining classicism rarely heard since the days of the Devastations magnificent ‘Leone’ albeit here cut through by the soft seduction of the Delgados, frankly folks scarcely a dry eye in the house.

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