Ahead of their anticipated ‘Atrophy’ EP release (November 29th , digitally and physically via Clue Records) Peckham five-piece YOWL drop lead track ‘Mammalin Fondness’.
A 9-to-5 grinding portrayal of modern culture that, strip by pulpy strip unveils itself as a crafted mâché of glued together observations, there’s a metronomic frustration to lyricist Gabriel Byrde’s falsetto ping-pong match game of deadpan timed taunts. Like a toothpaste advertisement where the end goal is to sell the sucker tubes of spear-skint grit, it’s nonchalantly cynical with freshly gleaming drools of explorative irony and a restless drive that, with the aid of producer Alex Greaves, has become synonymous with the YOWL brand.
There is no doubting that this is a band who’ve both intentionally and (relatably) un-intentionally embraced the lived-in chaos and high-flying ambitions that come with capturing mid-city menace in a near six-minute track. With perfectly folded edges of post-punk polo, if YOWL were to work in retail they’d certainly be the mavericks who dare to present displays that aren’t buttoned all the way to the conformist top and, we’re all for it.
Isn’t it time we all ‘Get greased, get slicker’ with a descending heramin showcase? Sounding as silver swirled groaning as the churning belly of a Clanger who, after eating a pint of ice-cream thought it smart to jump on board a looped roller coaster, ‘Mammalin Fondness’ is a tumbling pleasure that makes for both amused and provoked listening.
Header photo by Holly Whitaker