Cro Magnon

3,00 

Haley Fohr (circuit des yeux) and Katie Leming (bird):Again and again you feel mislead by us. We are sorry but the pattern is hard to conduct precisely and in such frequent cycles. It was when we first got our periods that we started to hate how we had both been conformed by other women and our fathers. It was like sucking on pennies. But we are serious about what we are telling you here. It’s like reaching into a tree and pulling out an oddly shaped fruit. Our hands have grown ten inches in the past three years and we have finally found a spoon

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SKU: Br-d 3 Categories: ,

Description

Byron Coley ~ the Wire : Fantastic Midwest girl duo, released by one of France’s most intriguing new labels. They yowl like hungry puppies and slap their instruments as though they’ve been misbehaving. The drums and guitar provide a structural basis for the madness, but they don’t constrict anything. Freeform exploding bonnets. And nothing less

Max Dembo ~ Etrange ressac : Belle pochette terre cuite pour le premier disque de Cro Magnon qui sort sur Bruit Direct. Ces jeunes femmes de Lafayette, Indiana piétinent un peu de la fertile terre du Midwest sur un fond perdu no-wave. L’engrais rocailleux de leur fatras sonique remplace judicieusement le bitume devenu trop lisse. Après il se passe des choses étranges sur la face B. La nuit tombe sur les plaines et des lumières blanches aveuglantes scintillent au loin. Le silence des champs plongés dans l’obscurité lâche un travelling d’imagination brute. Quand enfin la pomme tombe dans une chute aussi lourde que rassurante. “Apple Orchard” est le titre.

Doug Mosurock ~ Dusted Magazine :
First American release by this intriguing French imprint, and its strongest release to date. Cro Magnon, not to be confused with the ESP-Disk outfit of yore, is Haley Fohr (Circuits des Yeux) and Katie Leming, operating in an overmodulated lo-fi gestalt. There?s pop here, in the same way that Times New Viking delivers it (?Wash?), but a lot more anger and discordance (?A Hole?), finally culminating in evocative, obtuse, broken dollhouse sounds of quiet fear (?Apple Orchard?). The slide from somewhat straightforward sounds to deliberate creep-on is quite the thing to behold, and if these two can keep the quality level up (seriously kids, there is NO NEED to release seven LPs worth of material before your 21st birthday), they will be a fondly remembered outfit in this troubled corner of musical expression and instant gratification through unformed scraps.

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