From the moment of their conception the Leeds four-piece, Eagulls, have been making waves both in and out of the music scene. From their almost arrest as a result of harbouring a rotting pig brain in their basement, to their seething open letter to the bands of Coachella who ‘dress like Disney characters’ with ‘disgusting afrobeat sounds’. Eagulls had certainly made their mark on the public as a venomous, perhaps juvenile band, who genuinely and refreshingly didn’t give a fuck about media response.
This carelessness juvenility, however, is curiously absent from the album, in that almost every song featured despite it’s obvious scuzzy post-punk influence, still remains well crafted and bracing. The albums itself is a whirlwind, charging headfirst through ten tracks in what seems like a second, displaying the band’s trademark energy. The influence behind the songs and the lyrics still remains as gritty and depressing as ever, with ‘Amber Hands’ being about heroin addicts pawning their worldly possessions, and ‘Tough Luck’ being inspired by birth defects caused as a result of early 60’s wonder drug thalidomide, which was supposed to aid morning sickness in pregnant women.
Despite this, Eagulls manage to take these loaded, hopeless subjects, inject it with an infectious bass hook, relentless crashing cymbals and a savage yelp, so that their tracks wouldn’t seem out of place being wailed in a park in the summer by a group of drunken youths, staggering and embracing. In contrast to their fantastically twitchy single, ‘Nerve Endings’ which was loaded with a malevolent nervous energy, the album is altogether more uplifting.
With the excellent ‘Possessed’ the band manage to perfectly balance a hint of summery shoegaze, with the urgency of their own brand of post-punk so that the song achieves a sonic breadth that is exhilarating, allowing it to soar above the other songs in the album. ‘Possessed’ is a song that still remains caustic despite continuous listens, as the pure energy and cohesiveness of the band means that you can almost hear the sweat and the grime radiating from the speakers. The song acts a moment of clarity, an almost triumphant yell from the band: ‘Yes we’re fucked up, we have shit jobs and life’s boring. But fuck you.’ ‘Soulless Youth’ is also another of the album’s gems, wavering curiously between the sinister and the summery, whilst simultaneously building unbearably delicious tension. Eagulls talent lies in providing an auditory indulgence of hedonism, filth, and the prosaic, in a way that will rattle through your skull for weeks to come.
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BLOOMHOUSE MUSIC 