On their debut, Private Party, Melbourne rockers Nightclub manifest a sound that feels like it leaked out of a temporarily displaced radio transmission from 1979, premiering the new and obscure bands to ooze up from the New York City underground. It’s a sound that successfully marries the serrated-riff love letters of Radio Birdman with the obtuse visionary art-rock of Rough Trade signees Liliput, DNA, and Swell Maps.

A haze of self-annihilation seeking grooves, echoing through the vents of a meatpacking plant to the streets outside, emanating from a clandestine disco in the backroom that serves martinis mixed with gasoline and strychnine, accented with razor blades instead of olives.

Textures of Velvet Underground, shaved off like old upholstery and stapled back together to make a leisure suit for the shambling rake of a freshly zombied Jim Jarmusch. The mean, languid blues guitars on “Bad Mood / Bad Attitude” are archetypal of the band’s sound, as are the pronouncements of a psychic-schizoid-break made by the meandering, desaturated sax accompaniments.

These aren’t the only tricks Nightclub have up their sleeves, though. “Listen Up” starts with a crunchy breakbeat and continues with an upside-down, Supergrass, surf riff through a canal of sideways grooves and snake-charming horn melodies.

“Secret Handshake” borrows a hyperventilating, breakcore rhythm to amp of the anxiety of an otherwise straightforward, powerpop jam, and ‘Private Party” sees the band falling face-first into the concrete girth and beer and piss condensation of a Velvet Underground hangover, where they sweat out a white heat in the drainage basin of their own frontal lobes.

Private Party is your VIP pass to a delightfully deranged time.

Stream the entirety of Nightclub’s Private Party via Bandcamp below:

Get a copy of Private Party on vinyl from Urge Records.

Author

Hardcore. Metal. Jazz. Cats. Scary Movies. Etc... Read more of my errant thoughts over at I Thought I Heard a Sound (https://thasound.blogspot.com/).

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