THIRD27 [christmas tape​/​charity fund raiser for Shelter UK]

I’d have never have known this was out and about had we not tripped over it by sheer accident, I mean talk about hiding your light beneath a bushel. But then that appears to be the way of the Third Kind folk in Brighton, secretly crafting short numbered cassettes of a non-generic boxing that feature sonic worlds without boundaries like no other label around, I guess you’d call it eclectic and I’d guess we’d think you’d be right. Expect full mentions of this then in various instalments over the coming weeks all cobbled together in our extended Christmas Eve soiree next month ‘Third27’ is their year ending festive greeting card, a charity Christmas cassette with all profits going to Shelter. Within, an 18-track seasonal gathering of talents, some familiar some not so to the Third Kind cognoscenti. For this brief visit, we are concentrating ears on just three of the tracks on offer, starting out with Sonoda and ‘Do You Want to Find Out’ the ‘No Voltage Mix’ therein – a wonderfully lilting flutter by softly ghosted in the affectionate hazy hazeling of dreamily dappled lazy eyed folk apparitions all kissed with a deceptively lulling sea faring spray, all utterly woozy and with that deftly seductive. ‘Cashmere’ by Dakota Blue opens the set, a strangely enchanting cut both airless and ghostly which had us in mind, truth be told, of an astral gliding variant of Oddfellows Casino, the melodies floating and anchorless sigh delicately to the murmuring hush of the vocals, distractively gorgeous. Last for this sneak peek behind the Grotto curtain, Erm buck the warming and cosy toed trend with the decidedly strangely overcasting ‘I am Satan Claws’. Set to a funereal like glooming chamber jazz toning, this ‘un fragments with disquieting delight between macabre murmurs and wistful chorals, in truth it’s something that ought to appeal first hand to admirers of all things Reverb Worship in so much as the sounds and melodies are possessed of a primitive folk chill, but then scratch a little deeper and what’s revealed is a subtly forming kinship with French surrealist outsiders La Société des Timides à la Parade des Oiseaux. Okay, I think we agreed to featuring for now, just three selected cuts, but then how could we resist the demented charms of Mock Church’s warped and way out ‘meanwhile, back at bible camp’. In short, total lunacy and off its box, starts with the little known musical device – the out of favour gurgling before sounding as though its descending the rings of hell at speed no doubt the result of a broken Faustian pact or some dark ceremonial calling all interspersed by some swiftly upending to moments of rollicking cowpunk rumbling, what can it all mean, frankly we want answers and more of the same. Perhaps our track of the day if we indeed had a track of the day spot with which to award it.

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