In the Shower [LP; Sinderlyn]

Homeshake’s In the Shower fits Cerberus like a glove because whether principle (i.e. only) player Peter Sagar plays guitar with Mac DeMarco or not his solo stuff is fascinatingly OUT, maintaining an artistic distance, and if you remove the slight funk overtones it’s more along the lines of that lone, wonderful Vincent Gallo record or a Niobe excursion than anything. Plus, if Alessandro Cortini can play with Nine Inch Nails and retain underground credibility and cut LPs for Important then, yadda-yadda… PLUS, Sagar released a tape on a Cerbs fixture, Fixture. Truth be told I came close to referencing Gary Wilson before pulling back and feeling disgusted with myself (even more so now that I went and actually mentioned it), but I don’t want to go too far pushing the ‘outsider funkist’ angle because the fallout of Sagar’s mind goes deeper yet, into the realms of minor-key madness and pitch-bent nightmares. It’s rare to immerse oneself in an album so surprising from top to bottom; around every corner there’s an OOH or AHHHH waiting to stifle the yawns you had ready because you’ve come to expect the worst from today’s confused, ultra-competitive John Q. Artiste. Then he starts mucking around with those cotton-candy synths and funk guitars that soar so much higher than funk guitars normally do, and then, and then, and then FUCK it’s all too much. I’m stoked. And this is before I even got to “Slow,” perhaps the sweetest, purest cut on this entire record, like a latter-day ‘cocktail jazz’ Doors jam or maybe something Blind Melon would have come up with if the singer hadn’t died after the second album. A lot of IF, and it’s all open-ended anyway. You dig deep and you keep going until you’ve tunneled through the entire world, shoveling in circles and plowing a path for the rest of us. Yeah, I get it man, I really do. I tweeted it before and I’ll say it again: Homeshake are fucking with my head, and sometimes I need my head to be fucked with. (Sorry about all the ‘fuck’s.)

Links: Homeshake


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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