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previously appearing on hip us indies woodsist and siltbreeze, their second proper full-length (and first for fat cat) marks a major shift, upgrading their sound and delivering a coherent set of bustling, uptempo, hook-laden, melted outsider pop songs. currently existing as the duo of matt horseshit (vocals / guitars / drum programming / harmonica / keyboards) and ryan jewell (drums / percussion / keyboards), 'laced' also features a guest appearance by times new viking's beth murphy, who sings on 'doa'. created in columbus throughout 2010 (with two tracks dating back to almost year before that), the album was recorded in a variety of basements, practice spaces, living rooms, and bathrooms using almost no amplifiers and a beat up 70's teac reel to reel. no longer mining corrosive, lo-fi dysfunctionality in 2-minute adrenaline hits, 'laced' is the first record to see them consistently stretching things out and breaking new ground. losing the caked-in distortion and aggression, whilst retaining a drugged density and adventurousness, it is cleaner and far more electronic. guitar, keyboards and drums remain staple instruments, but the driving bass guitar is ditched as samplers and electronics become increasingly central. matt sampled, chopped and re-sequenced sections of jewell's druming, forming a series of piled-up rhythms and loops. with this foregrounding of both rhythm and a spiralling mass of processed tones / melodies, 'laced' could pass as a very a fried, psychedelic dance record. numerous tracks bring to mind the early '90s indie-dance axis of my bloody valentine's 'loveless' / happy mondays' 'pills...' / primal scream's 'screamadelica'. squelchy, fluid and immersive, its huge blown-out swathes of blissfully reverberant fx, buried voices, smeared electronics and melted-out guitar processing recall the likes of black dice, growing and animal collective. the pitchbent synth opening the 8-minute long 'i hate the beach' replicates omar souleyman's syrian horns; 'another side's harmonica and acoustic guitar nods towards dylan; whilst the frequent blissed-out frequency mess summons the spirit of astral social club. there are blissfully shimmering loop-sections; places where the whole buckles in on itself. at the centre of the slurred, swirling chaos is horseshit's gnarly, nasal vocal.
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