Tunabunny at Whisperin and Hollerin

I know very little about Tunabunny other than they come from Athens, Georgia and I was sent this vinyl LP which features great painted sleeve artwork by the band themselves. It seems to indicate they are probably art-rockers of some kind.

The album proffers a quiet, lo-fi opening that builds as the Naomi Yang-like vocals come in and the sparse drumming underpins it and eventually the album gets airborne with what sounds like an airplane taking off across my speakers.

Canaries In Mineshafts is like a cross between The Blake Babies and late 80’s Sonic Youth. It’s a great short sharp blast of a tune. Save It Up brings a minimal techno Beth Orton vibe to the table but you need to turn the throbbing bass up so that the anger can be used in a positive way as the lyrics have it.

Different Jobs goes all Glitchcore industrial lo-fi with crawling keyboards and disembodied vocals that are a bit Meatjoy if that isn’t too obscure a reference. Power Breaks however is all casio keys, glitch backing and cool vocals on an early Kraftwerk meets Dif Juz driving tune that pulses from the speakers.

Good God Awful is a wonky pop lo-fi slag off chant-along with the odd weird diversion. It’s a song that leaves you wondering if she really likes the object of her disdain or not. Tete-A-Tete finishes side one with some Theremin pulses; almost like an interlude piece apart from the vocals going a bit Karen Finley on us but not as filthy as that might imply.

Side 2 opens with Tunabunny Coming For You: an upbeat indie pop floor filler that gets a bit Sundays-esque. It’s probably the most commercial tune on the record. That’s followed by the noises and pulses of Not New Years, full of pulsing claustrophobia like a really bad hangover.

Empire is Glitchy bleepy and beguiling lo-fi that ends with an odd radio sample. Chalked Up is all Slits meets Sleater Kinney in an alternate lo-fi universe with some cool lyrics making this a great slag off tune.

Terminal Departure seems to be a slow almost church-organ style sort of chill out interlude that leads into Bag Of Bones: a surprisingly Donna Summer goes Italo-disco in a pit of deep nasty bass thumps sort of tune that could easily become a bit of a club tune with very little re-mixing.

The album finishes with (They Say) This Is Where Our Dreams Live; full of low down hums and noises with a carefully told story that takes us on a bit of a hell ride. In a very cool way it almost sounds like the more experimental end of Everything But The Girl but more out there than they get as a rule.

This is a cool album that never settles into any sound for long enough to become boring or sound remotely mainstream. Simultaneously, it still manages to be rather compelling and at times rather poppy too.

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