It all began with some solo demos recorded in her Dana Margolin’s bedroom, before evolving into a five piece band, and Rice, Pasta and Other Fillers takes some remnants of those sessions and sees them ramped up by the buoyant group. They’re a quirky and creative bunch, coming to the project with varying amounts of experience and expertise, but always enthusiasm. Stink Pup (Sam) has been playing drums since the age of ten, whereas Madilda only began her musical career a couple of years ago when handed a bass guitar. Dan, who also calls himself, Snake Leather plays second guitar, and Gorgus started out as a fan with a memory for lyrics, and now accompanies on vocals.

It’s a pointed set of tunes, but not polished. The combination of honest lyrics with a lo-fi musical edge indicates the desire for a touch of authenticity. Ten tracks of grubby fun that effervesce with humour even as they are entangled with subjects of ceaseless drudgery. This is the world of scuffed trainers and burned dinners.

In Danish Pastry they address the dichotomy between the shoulds and the realities, when grey mornings hit you fast than gratitude, as Margolin sings that ‘the first thing I can do / when I wake up in the morning on any given day is say hello / I am alive / but I do not do this / I stumble out of bed confused and upset / that the world exists / and so do I.’ Sorry is a lo-fi piece of pop about finding yourself in a pickle with the awareness that there are hundreds of ways of ‘dealing with this shit / but I think I’ve only got the energy to cry.’ Lemonade simmers with less sweetness than the title might suggest, whilst the quieter Eugh soon turns up the volume as Dana shouts ‘Don’t be a jerk!’ repeatedly.

Released last year on Memorials of Distinction, the album is now out on red vinyl, with the celebrations happening on Sunday 19^th March at London’s Shacklewell Arms.

Francesca Baker

A band of two people, only one set of vocals and one instrument per song, just over three months on, and a five track EP. Not the stuff of seasonal excess – and so much the better for it. Minimalist but not emaciated, Low Duo have stripped back superfluities until all that remains is raw emotion and beautiful tunes to convey it. Sheffield brothers Adam and Leigh Greenwood, who have emerged from the embers of Dark Sparks to form their own two-piece outfit Low Duo state that ‘‘these are songs for the bedroom rather than the nightclub.’’ In this and the poetic emotion power, particularly of opener ‘Fifteen Years’ one can liken the listening experience that perhaps felt by early listeners of The Smiths, tumbling with their tortured soul. ‘I Want To Die on The Moon’ opens with harsh strikes against the guitar and strutting strings, which when laced with a solo strong yet vulnerable voice reminds of The Maccabees, especially in its intense build up. Foraging from some of the best of the musical canon, Low Duo have created a sound that is all their own. Church like chords on ‘I want to die on the moon’ are a little too repetitive, but the following ‘House On The Hill’ is redemptive in its haunting vocals. Both the lyrics and instruments are poetic, in the way that they encapsulate a feeling and confront you with it. Good stuff.