The first track literally hammers through with blinding insistence, a powder keg of percussive energy and squally sax. This staggered vocal from Alyse Lamb magnetically drawn over it, pulling you deeper into the fray, an angsty swagger that her guitar snatches up, garnishes in generous amounts of noisy excess. A promising start, one that each following track matches in a delish roast of No-wave action that steals you completely away, or as the lyrics of the opener put it, pulls your heart through your mouth.Opposites is a surprisingly fresh sounding affair too, with plenty of errant rhythmics that satisfy, coax the palette, even a smidgen of melody catching its breath between those twisty bouquets and pivotal swings. The careering engines of the Kim Gordon-esque title track responsive to every lyrical curve, mirroring the frustrations and personal conflicts explored. The tribal stitchings of “Teach Me Where To Roam” itching for resolve. Lamb is displaying some star qualities here, matched by the taut curlings of her fellow band members. Her compelling vocal style – a detachment of Siouxsie Sioux, PJ Harvey, a less soured Lydia Lunch maybe, a strange concoction that lingers in your head luxuriously as those quelling angles snag, ensnare. The stilettoed spectre of “Me Me My” being a personal highlight – a dark-sinewed brilliance of a track, as the sax tattoos those abrupt blooms of guitar and pummelling momentums, leaving Lamb’s words to become a sucking centrifuge for the surrounding light.
Opposities is a superb slice of jilted sincerity that burns with an honesty that is quite rare to find these days.