Life/Thrills

Chronique

The third offering from Australian sound stylists Lower Plenty is a curiosity, to say the least. Originally formed as a casual collaboration between friends who were all in separate Melbourne area bands, their first concern was to avoid having to carry around any heavy gear. Hesitantly plucked acoustic guitars, sparse found percussion, and subtle sound manipulations are the basis of their experimental post-folk deconstructions. Their sound, like the instruments they choose to employ, could fit in a small suitcase and the ten songs on Life/Thrills strangely resemble a jumble of clothes, shoes, and a toothbrush with maybe an avant-garde paperback tossed in for the journey. At first blush, it would be easy to dismiss their approach as loosely structured, lo-fi hipster noise, and there are certainly moments when their constantly out-of-tune guitars and vague mumbles irritate more than inspire. Some of the songs are so loose, it seems like they might break apart if nudged. But, when they coalesce into more thoughtful structures, like on the title cut and the oddly wistful "On the Beach," it sheds a warmer light on the band's unique appeal. Blending the cool, laissez-faire attitude of the Velvet Underground with the slow, sad jangle of early Red House Painters, Lower Plenty offer their own personal slice-of-life suburban scenes with a kind of detachment, giving the impression that regardless of whether or not the tape was rolling, they would still be there, gathered around the kitchen table, creating this specific half hour of music. In that respect, Life/Thrills feels like a kind of window with the bandmembers doing what they do on the other side, and the fact that they haven't invited you in only makes you more curious to know.

© Timothy Monger /TiVo