THE NATIVE CATS - TWO CREATION MYTHS 7"
Regular price
$14.00
Lulu's:
Blessed again, and just in time. Few bands releases feel quite as consistently considered as those of The Native Cats. Never a second wasted, nor element
unslaved over, their voice is one of the most unique, engaging, and resolute of the contemporary Australian underground.
This latest, a 45, sees two staples of their recent live show finally committed to disc: 'Run with The Roses" b/w "Sanremo"- The latter is a syrupy dirge; a creeping, tense track that is as a grandiose and dramatic as we've ever seen them. It's a very, very
good song.
The former is perhaps their single greatest moment to date. Everything we've come to expect from The Native Cats is there: Julian Teakle's driving, thundering bass acts as the spine upon which Chloe Escott builds form from synth and words.
Everything, but more-so. The rhythms hit harder, the synth masterful in it's restraint, slicing through exactly when it needs to and disappearing just as quickly. Chloe's lyrics are some of the best of her career.
The first time I heard the track live there was a line that made me literally gasp: quickly followed by another that produced in me the kind of shit-eating grin that only this band can. The first time I heard it on record with lyric sheet on hand I burst into tears.
Confident confide-nt and smirkingly self-referential The Native Cats have produced if not a universal trans anthem then perhaps a personal one.
Limited to 300 copies
unslaved over, their voice is one of the most unique, engaging, and resolute of the contemporary Australian underground.
This latest, a 45, sees two staples of their recent live show finally committed to disc: 'Run with The Roses" b/w "Sanremo"- The latter is a syrupy dirge; a creeping, tense track that is as a grandiose and dramatic as we've ever seen them. It's a very, very
good song.
The former is perhaps their single greatest moment to date. Everything we've come to expect from The Native Cats is there: Julian Teakle's driving, thundering bass acts as the spine upon which Chloe Escott builds form from synth and words.
Everything, but more-so. The rhythms hit harder, the synth masterful in it's restraint, slicing through exactly when it needs to and disappearing just as quickly. Chloe's lyrics are some of the best of her career.
The first time I heard the track live there was a line that made me literally gasp: quickly followed by another that produced in me the kind of shit-eating grin that only this band can. The first time I heard it on record with lyric sheet on hand I burst into tears.
Confident confide-nt and smirkingly self-referential The Native Cats have produced if not a universal trans anthem then perhaps a personal one.
Limited to 300 copies
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