Frenzied super-group Melt Yourself Down (members of Polar Bear and Zun Zun Egui, plus Shabaka Hutchings) return with a second album! Last Evenings On Earth, which takes its name from a Roberto Bolano text, is a pre-apocalypse party record of immense energy and joy: vocals, saxophones and everything else all operating at peak level throughout. Released by The Leaf Label.
Limited Vinyl LP £8.33 BAY101V
Limited LP + CD on The Leaf Label.
- Limited edition
- Only 3 copies left
CD £6.39 BAY101CD
CHEAP! CD on The Leaf Label.
Hello. It is the return of party fusion contingent Melt Yourself Down and that is good. I am RSVPing to them with this review. We’ve already had hints of their return this year with a side-project by way of the Comet Is Coming, a more cerebral and often more psychedelic workout. ‘Last Evenings On Earth’ promises the same tectonic sax jams as ever but premeditated the end of the world to give them higher stakes. Not that you’ll notice: this is just a well-performed and excellently produced fun-time record.
“Dot to Dot” still hits as it did a month ago, warping from its rigid structure into a watery version of itself, back out with the same sax motifs and stuck-in-time drumbeat. From there the tunes do not let up nope never not once, with “The God Of You” following the same trajectory of spat vocal mantras and a rigid rhythm section eventually giving way to the ecstasy bits: a solo on some woodwind, a euphoric vocal harmony, that kinda damn good chorus shtick. It’s often in the production that this record will suddenly shock you, with the track getting some interesting vocal panning and affectation, momentarily blurring into another dimension before coming back to studio core.
Some electronic bits come to the fore, with a lovely arpeggiated synth falling downwards through “Jump the Fire” before it gets going proper. There are some moments of exercised patience, as on the oscillating guitar picking of “Big Children (Gran Zanfan)”; the track goes free instead of fusing, suggesting the moment at the party where the room is spinning to fuck, before it reconfigures into a nicely structured MYD standard. It’s a record of twists and turns, but they all eventually come around to just being tunes. Yep yep yep yeah yeah yeah.
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