If you haven’t started to pay attention to the Australian music scene this is your heads up. Whatever is going on within the confines of the country is shaping a musical landscape that cannot be ignored any longer.
No stranger to the Aussie scene and charged up to continue their contributions to the growing soundscape of Melbourne and the like, Kenny-Smith (vocals, guitar, harmonica), Callum Shortal (guitar), Matt Blach (drums), Cook Craig (bass), and Tim Karmouche (keys), known to some as The Murlocs, are about to drop Rapscallion.
Feeling like it should come with a warning sign designed by some suit sitting in a stuffy office somewhere, the sonically bursting atmosphere of The Murlocs’ latest twelve tracks are shaped around the romanticism of youth and the things we won’t necessarily tell our kids (until they’re a little older at least). From subtly syncopated swaggers (“Farewell to Clemency”) to bass-forward struts (“Bowlegged Beautiful”) to blues-heavy jams (“Wickr Man”), Rapscallion encapsulates a group of well-seasoned musicians who take their art seriously and their fun as an equal. The result is a chop-licking foray into long dormant emotions and a call to feel/remember. The crossroads of blistering rock and psych-punk are where The Murlocs have pulled over and tagged the wall with one word, Rapscallion.
Rapscallion embodies a personal sentiment of youthful angst fueled by memorable summers of mild mischief, subtle debauchery, and adventure carried around the vast Australian outdoors in a beat-up old car with a stack of cassettes from the Ramones to Rush in the tape deck. Huge swaths of post-punk are expertly fused with psych influence from various decades past which linger on sun-soaked, fuzzed out skate punk attitude and glory. Ample doses of distorted rabbit holes and consuming hooks will have you surrendering yourself to not just another reason to love the Australian music scene, but The Murlocs as a whole. This record feels like someone needs to code an entire Tony Hawk game around it and spread it to the masses. Rapscallion lives within its namesake and feels slightly mischievous, but wholly like we want to join in. Check it out September 16 on ATO Records.