Greymouth [12-inch; Quemada]

The first vinyl release from Greymouth is as warped and melted as the NZL expats, now residing under the rising sun. Fans of xxNoBBQxx and Mad Nanna (from that bigger island to the west) will find plenty to embrace; a cacophony of pretend musicians creating not-so pretend pop hits that care not for recording conditions and timing. The self-titled twelver gets better, not only with each listen, but with each song. As if Greymouth put their dirt worst (which is quite great) foot forward and then precede to trample on that footprint until its no longer noticeable as human but the stampede of great ideas with no gate strong enough to keep the animals in the pen. A rush of an album that actually benefits from the speed in which Greymouth put it all onto wax. I miss the mess of amateurism that is truly professional. Seriously, an awful record where awful is the highest compliment. Get it, listen to it, and resist the temptation to break it. Because Greymouth is the mouthwash you’ll need to erase 30 years of shitty Billboard repeats.

Links: Quemada


Cerberus seeks to document the spate of home recorders and backyard labels pressing limited-run LPs, 7-inches, cassettes, and objet d’art with unique packaging and unknown sound. We love everything about the overlooked or unappreciated. If you feel you fit such a category, email us here.

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