The EP’s premise is simple: six songs about the beauty of the world. But this is no wish-washy folksy affair: the Oxford trio explore the theme via an eclectic blend of art / punk rock, grunge, jazz, pop, and psychedelia (the latter hardly being surprising given that the name is taken from an early Pink Floyd song).
‘Talk Danish to Me’ works a nagging bass around a ragged guitar and some stuttering drumming. And then it all goes fucking nuts. What initially threatens to be a fairly middling, shambolic indie song lurches into the chasm that exists between the choppy, angular post-punk funk of Gang of Four and the chaotic discord of early Toiling Midgets.
The title tracks is a glorious, tempo-shifting mess of manias, a crazed hybrid of world music filtered through postmodern appropriation and delirious trips. And through it all shines, twisted and warped, a summery is somewhat stoned vibe.
You like contrast? Lucy Leave bring contrast to the point of schizophrenia on ‘Grief’, which incorporates elements of weirded-out jazz and super-tense math-rock in the verses and crashes into some sludgy-as-you-like downtuned riff chaos worthy of Melvins, augmented by frenzied brass in the choruses.
Taking another 90-degree turn, ‘Josh’ is, at heart, a gentle, jangly indie tune that’s stripped back and simple – save for the rapid tempo changes and digressions into jazz-tinged mathrock
Closer ‘Chant’ comes on somewhere between Gang of Four and PIL, with shards of guitar overloaded with treble sheer off in every direction against a thumping bassline that springs and bounces. Bonus track ‘Fresh Crepes’ brings the biggest surprise with its mellow acoustic psychedelic pop leanings, rounding off an exciting release that’s got cult appeal all over it.