New Fries are such a lively-sounding band that you feel like you must be missing something by not getting the visual aspect: these songs are so bursting at the seams with *stuff*, they must be sprouting out colours or something. Anyway, for now we must settle for the kaleidoscopic sound of New Fries: 10 inches worth on their new Telephone Explosion release.
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Gosh. What is this? It's lively and most likely soon to be loved if people still have ears in 2017.
They are all over the shop creating bursts of energetic indie that seems to take in the people's history of music. They are harsh, funky and tuneful all that the same time encompassing vital indie rock such as Pylon, Women and Holy Fuck (who's Graham Walsh produces). These are slices of acerbic, experimental rock seemingly unconstrained by boundaries or whether stuff distorts or whether they chuck in an almost ambient interlude before the piano- and-drum-kit-being-chucked-down-the-stairs caterwauling of '90 Yr Old Girl'.
New Fries here are full of surprises, songs judder to a halt to be replaced by a pretty bit of acoustic guitar, drums clatter in so loudly you have to leave the room. They deal in brilliant pop chaos which on 'Mary Poppins Pockets' chucks disparate elements into the pot and stirs. What remains takes in moments of Sonic Youth, the Slits into nu-modern distorto-pop that will melt your mind.
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