When Orwell penned “Four legs good, two legs bad”, the universe was a cross-fired state of authoritative conflict to which the individual was expected to stride and reside in absolute adherence.
What was to follow appears to be an endlessly relenting pit of globally unresolved mass-matter, after sheer collective chaos. In Fake Turins terms: “death is the revolution of the soul”, two steps forward good, any step backwards bad and one, self-preconception answer to the ordinary is broadcasted; it takes ten souls and twenty legs to Fake Turins and together, they’re boundary shifters.
Fake Turins are master movers. Choreographers of poetically compelled trips, they’re sprawling waxed stillness with a subconsciously blending sense of nomadic existentiality. This is responsive morality and elevation is consistently encouraged. “Lifting tides, cut from dreams”, there’s motions to be made and the journey towards a unified dream-state to which this strong current pulls is as reflective as it is melodically murky.
Lyrically subversive yet audibly untouchable, like the ‘blink-and-you’ll-miss-it’ bloom of night-jasmine in the summertime, this track could not have been blossomed by any other. Chanting as a psychedelia blushed burgeon, an un-soiled reminder to stay grounded in the moment and grow out of your own, Fake Turins shoot forward as far as the mind meets the grooved curve of time standing still and Legs, is but “status quo undefined”.
Issue Twenty-Six out 30/06/20. Pre Order here.