Bricolage – Footsteps / Flowers Of Deceit (Creeping Bent)
Footsteps Footsteps Footsteps Footsteps! Whee! Here come Bricolage marching cheerily by with nary a care that they sound exactly like nineteen eighty-whenever. And why should they, it was blimmin’ ages ago, eh?
OrangeJuiceandJosefKandPostcardRecordsandcheckedshirts. Get over yersen and fling yourself into the welcoming um, strings of these janglin’ guitars; strings that bend and twinkle and chuck you under the chin just like the Bodines’ ‘Therese’ or The Railway Children's 'History Burns' used to do. The round-faced singer bloke croons his little boots off, thunkthunkthunk go the speccy man’s drums, the bass trembles sinuously round your knees and all the while the lovely guitar is flicking your ears and tweaking your nose and shining so brightly it fair breaks your heart. You know you can't resist. Sparklin' ‘n’ fizzin’ like a big tin of shook up Pop. Num!
Meanwhile over on the other side of this lickable disc of white vinyl (mmm) ‘Flowers of Deceit’ is being all spiky, dancing about on its toes, ducking and diving, flinging out super-fast loose-wristed jangle chords like they’re bouquets and we’re all pushin’ and shovin’ and squealin’ trying to catch them. Damn you Bricolage and your cunning appropriation of times past. This should be so wrong, but it sounds too right. A treasure.
Unrefined larder beautifier