Here’s a set of Melbournites that are pushing the artistic envelop. Think a drum and bass Seabear without that much drum and bass, but still with a little bit of drum and bass. Then minus the drum and bass, throw in the ocassional breakbeat and some well rounded bass rumblings and there you have it, I’lls. It’s a grammatical nightmare of a name but when you think about it, and you will, it’s actually a pretty great way of spelling Aisles/Isles etc. And I know, I know, I know I say this all the time but please believe me, you won’t understand the quality of this act until you listen to it with suitable auditory apparatus – this means apple headphones, laptop speakers, ringtones, those eskies with built in speakers, they’re all off limits. Maybe just wait until you get home if I’ve mentioned something relevant to your current circumstance.

The vocals are serene and caringly layered behind the wash of sound (I would have liked to hear them a little higher in the mix) made up of those earlier mentioned drums, the regular quick finger trill of delayed electric and a piano melody that is often lost underneath all the rest ( though it comes to the fore at the end of ‘Thrice’). If you’ve ever listened to any Radiohead (at all, ever) you’ll have trouble listening to ‘Take higher Ground’ on it’s own merits, but do try as I’lls are definitely more than the sum of their influences. As far as I’ve discovered, there are member connections to other Melbourne bands such The Ocean Party and Kins and no doubt a few others I’m oblivious to so we’re not talking about fresh to the game upstarts here.

Their 7 track Thread EP is available here or there’re two tracks up for free download on their unearthed page for the frugal.

After last month’s false start we’re now officially underway with the Tallest Man’s third full-length There’s No Leaving Now, due out June 11. The Dylanesque vocal tones that we’ve grown so found of are here even complimented by a Dylanesque delivery. I like this so, so much. I truly wonder if anyone will ever touch me the way The Tallest Man does, and though that couldn’t sound any creepier, I assure that I mean it in the least gropey way possible. Big Krisso’s done it again.

I’ve heard that the new record is going to have an added country twang to compliment his familiar acoustic folk riffery and I’m open to it. I’m even open to his reported use of a full band on this record. What I’m not open to, and I’ve said this before, is the delay on his ‘Once A Year’ soundtrack songs. WHERE ARE THEY!?

The Tallest Man On Earth – 1904 [DOWNLOAD]

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Tracy Chapman here puts her spin on the Carly Rae Jepsen track that has already spawned scores of covers across the webz and likely this is the best of the bunch. Its a world apart from Jepsen’s classic ballad of a quick burning love but the new spin on things goes down alright with this guy. Don’t ask the obviously question now, we both know what’s going on here. Maybe give it some guts, the recording is rather quiet.

Ben Howard – ‘Call Me Maybe’ (Carly Rae Jepsen Cover) [FREE DOWNLOAD]

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And here’s Ben Howard’s single ‘The Wolves’

Then reverting to the topic of covers again, here’s Oberhofer’s take on Kanye’s ‘Runaway’

I’ve had to hold this back a day because posts have been pouring forth in torrents these past few days and I know you’ll unfollow this thing if I’m too trigger happy on Facebook. Somehow it almost seems the reverse on twitter – the more drivel shared the more follows received. But I could only withhold this from you so long so here it is – Opossom and their hugely desirable blend of something and psychedelia. I could sit here and make like I didn’t source this from POA but the truth is that it’s fresh from their hallowed halls.

June 1 will see the release of their first full length Electric Hawaii, a title that I think appropriately reflects the general absurdity of the songs that you’re about to listen to. They’re burgeoning with that charismatic charm that’s usually reserved for less directed music but there are moments, just a few of them, where you’re altogether lost in the muffle. Underpin that business with Tame Impala’s lo-fi drum track and a king’s portion of LSD and you’re about ready to experience Opossom. You’ll be even more ready when you buy your ticket to their Goodgod show in a few weeks.

Blue Meanies sounds like it might have been produced by Peter Bjorn and John courtesy of the tinned reverb on the vocals and the wandering bassline. Cola Elixir is about as psychadelic as one can venture before they cross the threshold from psych-pop into the more directionless realm of pure psychadelia. That perma-baked guitar sound takes a violent turn at about 2:40 when it primes into climax and we collectively try to prevent our own. I know I’ve made no mention of who they are but you can go scout that one out yourself. There’re connections and histories that won’t affect the music but will give you ammunition for when you’re crossing swords over who was listening to what first.

I should preface this right now by saying that the record in question isn’t for the faint of heart. If you’re looking for sweet sounds, close this page and come back later in the week. Consider this a temporary respite. It’s simply that Oberon will likely find itself in my top five Australian releases of the year so I figured I’d better write something on it so that when that list appears there isn’t gross public outcry. “What!? Why haven’t didn’t you mention it then, tossbag!?”. The band is made up dudes from Parades, I.I, Jonathan Boulet, Light Giant and Sleepyhands. Plot that on a genre graph why don’t you.

Look, let’s get this out in the opening early: I’m smitten with this record. I’ve been listening to it constantly and unabridged for the past two weeks, declaring it the bees balls and mostly sweating on anyone who’ll listen. Amongst this I’ve wondered how folks that have never been purveyors of heavier music have picked up on this record so excitedly but I think the answer is simple enough; Oberon transcends traditional genrefication. Snakeface refuse to attend to your heavy music heart using the tried and tested formula. Here’s a list of features that are absent on Oberon:

For better or for worse, Oberon has somehow managed to position itself outside the spectrum of heavy music, at least in my eyes. It could be the absence of the earlier listed features or it could be some other unidentifiable anomale. There are moments where I know I should say “this smells like Converge” but I don’t, and I don’t know why. So you can keep your Northlanes, your Dream On Dreamers and your freshly cut cookies, I’ll have Oberon thanks.

The record opens with the Spaghetti Western brooder ‘Listen Up’. What I actually thought was electric guitar I’ve since discovered to be vocals auto-tuned so as to be unrecognizable and the effect is disquieting to say the least, and indeed, the most. It’s disconcerting and a worthy introduction before the meat arrives in track 2 ‘Devil’s Leap’, which is the first the first of the the record’s decelerations of grit. ‘Devil’s Leap’ is a lurching drunk, wandering the streets shouting obscenities while his late life, years-of-green induced neuroses lend themselves to voices in his dome.

‘Cash Grab’ is a more straight down the line nadcrusher laced with societal rage. “When was the last time you looked at your surroundings?”. Probably not recently enough. The track swells and swells with a third voice making its entrance before the vocal swarm takes over then the wave once again crashes back into uncertain twings and twangs punctuated by silence as much as noise. The song crushes out before it can build into the mosh part that kids have saved their best two-step for and I think that’s why I’m appreciating this record so damn much. There’s no pavlovian moments where Snakeface buy into the prevailing way of things. Somehow modern hardcore has convinced itself that the only way to demonstrate anger, sadness, rage or guilt is with more noise. Not so Snakeface. The tracks ‘Oberon’ and ‘Oberon ii’ are interludes between the interludes, both backed by a single resounding, organ tone. Ergo, the album rings out with of the run-down, the poor and the underfoot. Let’s also take a moment here to welcome ‘ergo’ to the Sound Doctrine word family. A great debut appearance.

A good portion of the record is centered on throbbing riffery, notably tracks like ‘Scum’ and ‘Occupy’ though this isn’t to be confused with “crushing guitars” which are thankful absent. ‘Occupy’ is a brash call to action prefaced by the slamming of a rusted door, that places the entirety of the song in abandonded country yard, probably in the deep of night, and if the house’s occupants are anything like the band members they’re touching themselves inappropriately. Distortion swells until it swallows.

I think music pundit Joe Hardy put it best when he said that this record contains “a tangible sense of Australian identity that feels neither contrived or forced, nor cringeworthy”. At no point during the 29 minutes that is Oberon did I feel like Snakeface were trying to demonstrate a sense of Australianism yet the record is unmistakeably Australian.

Oberon: $10/$10

Head to the Snakeface bandcamp to get a hold of the digital release or pre-order the vinyl/documentary combination which will ship in a little over a week.