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On first hearing this, you’ll either embrace it or run away screaming; I’ve seen both responses. Me, I think it’s genius. It reminds me of lots of things but the combination is unique: Daniel Patrick Quinn’s voice is a Northern drawl, like Mark E Smith (only more decipherable); the spoken narrative lyrics are reminiscent of the style of It’s Immaterial’s 1986 classic ‘Driving Away From Home’; and the backing is like the best of the alternative 70s (Can and Pere Ubu) with a twist of Higsons funkiness. At a time when genres are quite rigid, it’s experimental in a way that only bands like Dirty Projectors are right now.
It’s all about the tone and texture of a song; then the stream of consciousness vocals perch on top. On ‘Having A Ball’, a jazzy trumpet wails up and down the scale as Dan Quinn does this weirdly memorable trick with his vocals where he sings the last word of each line; ‘Confession Time’ is a mix of psychedelic drones and brass blasts, as Quinn paints word pictures: “nothing he said was a lie/ then again he didn’t say that much”; and the spooky midnight sounds of the instrumental ‘Under Night Streets’ is like a Nelson Riddle film score. It’s the sort of thing that was once a mainstay of John Peel and now would be too scary for most “alternative” DJs; but it’s powerful, unforgettable stuff that won’t be off my walkman anytime soon. Freakishly good.
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