Pure Mourning - Mother Tongue
Nostalgia, an irresistible need: the old scribe needs to talk again about deathrock, about darts and the dead walking on living, frightened souls. To do so, he goes back in time and heads to Los Angels, the lair of this musical genre, with its noble and wealthy glories.
Five performances that display power, violence, aggression, desperation, like high-tension cables crashing down on our helpless bodies: it is an immense joy and a pleasure to be wounded by this collection of pearls greased with filth, because after all, we are responsible for it.
Like a war that must be won, so their music advances, unhesitatingly, brushing the breath of self-destruction in a swarm of thoughts that send the brain reeling. Petals of post-punk support, while guitars rummage through the detritus of their bombshells, for an entirely legitimate complacency: an extraordinary band that has written a page of music that should be read often...
Alex Dematteis
Musicshockworld
