Month: November 2023

If MBV and Drugstore had a baby it would be called Sharkboy. Formed in Brighton in the early 90s, they released their albums on Nude Records, which was notable at the time for having brought Suede into people’s ears. Their debut, Matinee, was played so much in my car and on my personal stereo I had to buy a replacement cassette because the first one wore out and snapped. I only have the sleeve these days, so it was an absolute joy to discover that someone has been uploading obscure 90’s bands to YouTube.

And Sharkboy is one of them.

I say obscure, but many of the original Sharkboy went on to play in some well-known – some might even say famous – bands such as James, Placebo and Salsa Celtica; lead singer, and chief creative in the band, Avy, continues to release music under the Sharkboy moniker, mostly soundtracks to her award-winning short films. It was Avy’s vocals and laidback playing style that were the mainstay of the band’s sound: her guitar playing gave it that stoned shoegaze sound, but with a sharpness that lifted it above many of the other mid-nineties indie blandness that precipitated the BritPop era.

The thing that drew me to their music was the use of different instruments to those being used elsewhere in the guitar-based indie scene: trumpet, cello, and percussion. There is a Country-feel to some tracks, thanks to the liberal use of slide guitar, but the music is firmly rooted in indie. It’s hazy, blurry with multi-layered instrumentation, such as the opening to My Star, or the chorus on Crystaline. To my ears, they sounded anything but British.

Given the multi-layered atmospheric music of Sharkboy, it’s really no surprise that Avy crosses a multitude of artistic disciplines, from illustration to filmmaking, from music to fine art. Her willingness to experiment put Sharkboy’s music ahead of its time, so in 2023 that debut sounds as fresh now as it did then. It’s subtle, the way the songs on Matinee get absorbed, yet the osmotic quality they have means each song embeds inself into your consciousness; in early interviews, Avy gave off a ‘salty’ personality, so perhaps that is where this ability comes from? Regardless, it’s not as if you’ll be afraid of a repeat listen, so just let it happen.

And there is definitely a dark underbelly to Sharkboy’s songs, such as the verse on Forest Fire, or the entire three minutes of Sugar. However, like seedy parts of any city in the world, it enriches you the more time you spend with it. And you’ll definitely want to share the experience with your friends.

So, listen to the YouTube playlist and send the link on your mates. As with every Unspun Hero, they’ll thank you for it.

When you think of supergroups, you’re probably thinking of musicians who have been around for a long time and have got together, finally, to write and release some music. Occasionally, though, a supergroup comes together before you even know they’re a supergroup and then writes and releases on album’s worth of amazing music before everything gets shelved because another side project takes off unexpectedly.

This is the story of OP8. One album – oh, but what an album – and then done.

Let’s rewind. Giant Sand is a band that is surely on most people’s musical radar, or so I’d like to think. (And if not, are you in for a delightful weekend of listening?!) The long-time rhythm section of Howe Gelb’s band were drummer, John Convertino, and multi-instrumentalist, Joey Burns. If those names ring a bell it’s because you’ll know them as Calexico, the alt-country veterans and all-round awesome band.

OP8 was a spin-off of Giant Sand, featuring Joey and John. The idea to add a collaborator for each record came from the founder of label 4AD, Ivo Watt-Russell. The first was vocalist, violinist and multi-instrumentalist, Lisa Germano, who was signed to 4AD and had released the excellent Geek the Girl in 1994. While it was later decided Watt-Russell’s idea, while amazing, was unfeasible – probably because Calexico’s career trajectory was near vertical at that point – one album did make it through the process and was released on CD. That album was Slush.

The first thing to note is that this is an album with its feet firmly in the alt-country scene. Yet, despite being over 25 years old it doesn’t feel dated, which perhaps goes to show how ahead of its time it sounded back in the late 90’s in what was then quite a fledgling genre.

Opening track, Sand, is a call and response vocal between Germano and Gelb, with feedback over an acoustic guitar and a variety of backing instruments from organ, accordion and percussion. It’s like alt-country noir.

The chilled vibe is carried through the album, with its reliance on laidback acoustic guitar and interesting bursts of percussion, occasional piano and violin. Vocal duties are shared, often shifting between the various members. If I Think I’m In Love might not have her vocals, but you really get to hear Germano’s influences in the use of strings and the piano refrain that bubbles up, bringing a jazz touch to the simple chords and arrangement.

Yet it is Germano’s breathy vocals that keep me coming back. She has an effortless way of imbuing a song with emotional intent that takes songs like It’s A Rainbow and Cracklin’ Water into deeper waters where it feels less safe and ordinary. Her smoky voice on The Devil Loves L.A. makes the discordant jazz touches less jarring angular chair and more velvet banquette.

Slush is a perhaps an album for a rainy day, or perhaps, given its name, for those days when the snows are melting but it’s still too cold to venture out. However, it’s not a warm blanket under which you can snuggle, but more of a stupor that I would suggest gives the supergroup its name. It’s an opiate, a way to bring a layer of harmonic gauze to your listening pleasure without diminishing the experience, and one that you miss when it ends.

For now, you’ll have to enjoy it via streaming, or if you’re lucky enough to own a copy, on CD.