|Trailer Trash Tracys
||6 January 2011
||Trailer Trash Tracys
For a band so tackily titled, Trailer Trash Tracys have rather more lofty views when it comes to their music. Rather than name checking 'Duelling Banjos', they cite David Lynch and Eastern Monks as muses. A hoedown it ain’t.
Recorded in the eastern-hailing solfeggio scale, traditionally linked to ancient spiritual chants, Ester is a record rather more suited to dimly lit bedrooms, than sticky dance floors.
Opener, 'Rolling- Kiss the Universe', does not betray the unsubtlety of its title, and is a psychedelic wall of noise. The aural equivalent to Willa Wonka’s boat trip through the tunnel (the 1971 version of course), it couldn’t really even be described as a song.
However, it serves well as a foil to its dream-pop successor, 'You Wish You Were Red', which is a fuzz laden Patsy Cline in a purple haze, with reverbs of The Raveonettes and Dum Dum Girls.
Vocalist Suzanne Aztoria is in icier form for 'Dies in 55', echoing an ominous Nico, behind jangling keys and murkier undertones.
The acid-tinged haze really starts to kick in on 'Englehardt’s Arizona', a psychedelic spree, tainted by the gentle sadness in Aztoria’s vocals. The melancholy softly mirrors Bilinda Butcher, and isn’t the only track that might have been a Bloody Valentine off cut.
'Strangling Good Guys' also sits in nineties shoe gaze territory, emitting undercurrents of angst and disaffection.
Also from that era, bizarre television series Twin Peaks, gets more than a nod and a wink. It’s the show that’s on the lips of every hipster these days, despite the fact many of them are too young to remember when it was first screened, and perhaps too young to realise how try-hard they seem. Nevertheless, TP rears its offbeat head, or at least its theme tune, on more than one occasion on Ester. 'Candy Girls', is the track that first pricked our ears to TTT nearly three years ago, and remains one of the more listenable numbers in this swirling soundscape.
For all its lazy lo-fi haze, Ester comes in at a snappy thirty-three minutes, which is probably long enough to showcase its strung-out tendencies. An icily haunting affair, this is not an album that will appeal to the great, Ed Sheeran loving masses. However, those who enjoy substance abuse and staring at their shoes should be quite satisfied.
- Deirdre Flannery