“Hold. Pain. Sustain. Release” /
Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd we’re back. Place looks good. Good to be home. We’re not quite at the office yet. We’re going to give
interns A&R and label assistants Clark and Ross the weekend to make it look as if they haven’t been partying hard and fucking shit up in the office this whole time. We know what goes on. So, Falmouth was a peaceful place. They had several beaches, even more bars that sold Tribute and Doombar on the reg (also at less than a fiver a piece) as well as a pretty crappy cider called Rattler, a Tesco metro and a heavily-branded UKIP shop whose name we forget right now. Probably for the best. Surprisingly, there was a lack of shells on the beach. We’re into shells now. This is because Falmouth has an army of fucking psychic shell-collectors that nick all the best ones, put it in a shop, then sell it to you at artificially-inflated shell prices. Buggers. The last remarkable eventuality of note to mention here is that we have mastered a drinking game called Touch-Cup. It involves bouncing pennies into a glass, making other people drink your booze (a point we never really managed to get our heads around – why on earth would you want someone else to have a great time on your booze?) and saying the words “touch cup”. As a result, we’re now a bit fuzzy around the edges. Feels a bit like the day after New Years Day, when you slowly realise that you’ve drank and eaten too much shit to the point that you struggle to remember just what the hell you did before all this mess started. We mean, we FORCING ourselves to write this. We want to sleep. Want Doombar. Yeurgh. Anyway, in celebration of our fuzzy-wuzziness, here’s Welsh people Howl (there was another band once upon a time, with a name that sounded like Howl. Howler, maybe? Are they still around? Did they survive? Get in touch if you know the answer) with their scuzzy-wuzzy double-whammy Track Of The Day Hold. Pain. Sustain. Release and Sinking Gold. The former is about 6 months old, the latter not so much. Skip Curtis told us about them. Hey Skip. Keep on trucking man. We don’t know much about these two guys, and given our current state of gorm you’ll just have to get over that, other than that they are two guys. One plays guitar and the other bang the drum real good. It’ sounds a bit like Queens Of The Stone Age and Wolfmother. Hold. Pain. has moments of Led Zeppelin. The riff in Sinking Gold sounds a bit like Iggy Pop. We reckon this simply must fall into the hands of the bloke who produced Arctic Monkeys‘ debut, who will flesh these sorts of songs out and render this lot able to challenge the bluesy-rock supremacy of The White Stripes, The Black Keys or Band Of Skulls. Gosh, that sounded like a halfway intelligent remark. We must be in remission.
Howl – Hold. Pain. Sustain. Release
Howl – Sinking Gold
Howl – Marla