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Awesome band and album name alert!

Feast of Love is Pity Sex’s debut LP from 2013, now being reissued on coloured vinyl in a cracking gatefold which also comes with a 7” of two non-album tracks. The album is punky indie rock at its finest, with swirling guitar, driving drums and some deadpan vocal delivery. It reminds me of some of shoegaze’s more rock inspired bands such as Ride, Curve and even My Bloody Valentine.  

Limited to 300 copies.

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  • LP £14.99
  • Not in stock / Usually ships in 2-3 days ?
  • Shipping cost: £3.15 ?
  • NormanPoints: 150 ?
  • 0603111959412 / LP on Run For Cover.

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REVIEWS

Feast Of Love by Pity Sex
1 review. Add your own review.
4 people love this record. Be the 5th!
7/10 Robin Staff review, 24 April 2015

Ah, 2013. Back when the emo revival was new and scary; when everyone wore twinkly influences on their very cautious sleeves, afraid feelings and math-tinged songwriting weren’t the done thing and that indie rock was still the fashion. 2013, man! I get nostalgic just thinking about it! So long ago. So many songs about exes ago. We can never go back. I am sitting in a rocking chair just thinking about it, let me tell you.

Back in 2013 BC, we got our first glance at Pity Sex with ‘Feast of Love’, a record that seems to melt the excess bits of random guitar bands into a new whole, kinda like what Fudge is to Cadburys; the slightly crunchier shoegaze of Slowdive factors, along with the songwriting astuteness of Katie Crutchfield and the hooks of, uh, a host of alt-rock bands from the oughts? Feeder? Biffy Clyro? Why not? Retrospectively, they sound like the early, brilliant songs of Joanna Gruesome; muted but impactful, lethargical noise deployers. Best of all, Pity Sex exercise their emo influence with subliminal might, letting their hummed vocal exchanges take the centre stage on a record of muted aggressions and distorted hazes.

As far as these types of records go, Pity Sex made one of emo-tinged indie rawk’s chillest; I barely notice the riffs, if there are any, merely hearing the squealing guitar abstractions around them and the miserable shrugs that are their lyrics: “Don’t get out much, keep falling in love”. Aw, same, guy. Holy shit, though, your band has an awful name.




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