Description:	CD on Invada
	Format:	CD
	Genre(s):	Alternative/College Rock
	Label:	Invada
	Price:	£11.09
	Availability:	Dispatched within 2-5 days (on average).

5
...according to our Brian on 16 January 2009.

Next up is a disc on Rocket from Teeth Of The Sea which has pricked our Brett's ears up with a "very Morricone'" comment and one from Brian "Like Earth crossed with Beirut". It's giving me mariachi vibes. I watched that Planet Terror movie last night. I pissed myself laughing... totally ridiculous but entertaining. Back to 'Orphaned By The Ocean' and what a gripping album it is. This avant-rock band have taken the sum of their influences to create what is like an imaginary super movie soundtrack full of lurking tension and blazing desert mirage. I'd say fans of recent Earth really should check this out. Over to you, Brett. Hey, thanks Ant.. Nice cravat you've got there, saw one just like it myself in the Tie Rack sale the other week. I'm supposed to beef up this review until it's 'album of the week'-worthy but Ant's used all the best words already, describing the ace Spaghetti Western trumpets and maelstrom-y doominess in a way I can only really add adjectives to. Here's some describing words: epic, controlled chaos, cosmic, super darkside, sandy, gringo hats. There's a bit of a Popol Vuh tip in there and Phil says it'll appeal to fans of bands like North Sea as well. I reckon it'd be the perfect soundtrack to the remake of Alejandro Jodorowsky's surrealist Western masterpiece El Topo, due to hit your screens some time in 2010 - starring Gary Busey as our quiet hero and ably directed by Ron Howard. Wicky wicky Wild Wild West.

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What their label says...

In a time before Teeth of the Sea, there was JAWS. A mythical beast that existed chiefly in its members’ imaginations, it was to be the ultimate incandescent and unsavoury aural burnout; a bracing, no-rules tarpit of abjection and intrigue. Then they actually had a band practice, and found that instead it sounded like an inept, drumloop-driven racket.

Only mildly disheartened, the band lay dormant until a decidedly blurry, in-the-red evening at a show in one of the murkier quarters of the metropolis, when its entourage were excited enough in their addled state to forge a master plan once again: Their mission: to stand atop the scrapheap of modern avant-rock like some wayward, drunken colossus. Armed with freedom of intent, irreverence and sheer hedonistic spirit, they would banish the legions of laptop-tapping timewasters and po-faced noisemongers that habitually blighted their evenings out, forever. Then they actually had some band practices, and were pleasantly surprised to find that what emerged from the new lineup was a turbulent, fiery and atmospheric instrumental brew that encompassed searing cosmic psychedelia, melodramatic giallo soundscapes, mariachi melancholia and kraut-tinged droning occultism.

This band hence metamorphosised into Teeth of the Sea. Two years and more have now passed since that fateful night, and though their sound has blossomed into the expansive, evocative and electrifying elixir you’ll hear on their Rocket Recordings debut Orphaned by the Ocean, their modus operandi remains exactly the same: To forge onward irrespective of genre, fashion and occasionally common sense. To have no agenda save what thrills them at any given moment. And to place reckless oblivion as the ideal destination for their quest. Orphaned by the Ocean, a far-reaching travelogue boasting an embarrassment of riches in texture, atmosphere and bloody-minded amplified overload, is nonetheless merely the first stop along the way.