City Yelps

CITY YELPS

A supergroup of sorts, featuring members of Downdime and The Real Losers, City Yelps channel a primal yet elegantly refined post-punk sound that conjures up images of a disgruntled Martin Hannett shaping them an icy cold sound from a mixing desk in the shadows.

Their debut album, “Cheap Psych” released on the very Yelps-friendly format of cassette tape, presents a collection of stripped down pop numbers that, rather than harking back to the sixties garage sounds that the title might suggest, are wintery sounding vignettes inscribed with a delightfully cold urbanity.

In amongst this controlled and perfectly formed rock minimalism, sweet-assed forms begin to take shape, from the almost raga-like guitar progressions of Shaun Alcock’s guitar that saturate the breaks and middle eights to that all conquering motorik groove of Valentina Brunetto to which Ex-Downdimer, Ged McGurn provides bass yin to Valentina’s trapset yang.

DANOPPOSITE

Inhabiting a no-man’s land somewhere between the lyrical flow of Sage Francis and the prog-hop sampledelica of Paul White, danopposite is the vehicle with which Daniel Hearn and Matt Robson realise their off-kilter hip-hop fantasies.

They happily vacillate between the witty (yet decidedly non-comedic) and the serious, elegantly traversing between their wry look at the pervasive braggadocio of mainstream rap, such as in “My Name is Irrelevant” to dealing with good old existential angst in “The Pessimist”. Their lyrical flow is backed by a diverse and texturally rich production style that melds verse/chorus pop sensibility with more experimental shapes and sounds reminiscent of clouddead, Flying Lotus or MF Doom...

AMY HEARN & MATT ROBSON

The debut of Amy Hearn’s disarmingly sweet and helium tinged voice, she is backed on production by LS6 stalwart Matt Robson (randomNumber/Ailsa Craig/Blanche Hudson Weekend etc). “Songs” about the baffling experience of existence in late capitalist society, they are at once laments but also outpourings of confusion and dissillusioment at life in an accelerated culture paradoxically locked in stasis.

Covering such wonderfully melancholic subjects matter as the death of love and the curious sense of detachment imposed by the expeience of the contemporary moment, where the “before” and “after” always seem to be tapping you on your shoulder in a decidedly disconcerting fashion. Expect tears and sadness, but in a very life-affirming way.