Could we call The Toads an Australian supergroup? The list of other bands for the assembled quartet is a long one and this blast through the shrubbery contains equal parts early Fall– style punkabilly energy, and the kind of dry and dusty laconic vision that could only come from the other side of the world.
Hypnotic bass refrains, simple addictive drumming and a droll vocal delivery. There is no rhyming and the kind of semi-poetry that tumbles out describes all manner of scenarios from stealing water to power a cotton mill (I think): “Removed the gauge from the water gauge”, constantly repeated to Soviet phone tapping visions, “he only uses the finest of phones from 1985”. It is a lot of fun and the imagery tends to settle in your mind.
Cheese wire guitar strands are scattered across the ten tracks here, veering around the dry yet charming vocals and the melodies are a real treat, showing that under the fluff and dust lie perfectly crafted little pop songs. There is melancholy and a swell of emotion on “Ex-KGB” which dashes into the churning post-punk of “Gimmie Little More”. Its ragged chorus is a delight and its overblown guitar break indicates that they are not averse to a few tropes; but the brevity of the songs and the ability to conjure up fresh recipes from similar ingredients shine right through, providing a series of chapters adding up to a satisfying whole.
Add in the seriously foot tapping beats, the cymbal washes and even a melancholic organ run on the pseudo-sophisticated self-titled closer, and you have one short, sweet, sharp box of delights. Once gain Upset the Rhythm are showing us what we are missing, so just tuck in; you know it is good for you.
-Mr Olivetti-
