The first line claims that Guineafowl “form in our circles to discuss things with purpose, issues to address. problems and their mess. Kids can dance, dance, dance, dance, dance…” which, unlike anything I’ve ever heard, sets the scene for this wonderful five-track more than anything I’ve heard all year. To say that opener 'In Our Circles' sounds big would normally be a lazy and uninspired way of describing it, especially since us reviewer types often to cram as many ridiculous similes in an review as possible, but there is no sound bigger. It’s like walking through ultra-flat Norfolk and smacking straight into the BT tower (whoops, there is a simile after all). Soaring synths dissect some absolutely shuddering bass drum with more melody crammed in than this years Apprentice. Yup. Guineafowl aren’t here to make things boring. They’re here to shake up the “arena rock” sound that Coldplay, Elbow and Snow Patrol have been the kings of and make it something entirely new and exciting.
Guineafowl began life as one guy, recording bleeps and vocals and an irritating amount of outside noise above an antiques shop on Bondi Beach with nothing more than a fizzy soda and a laptop. Now, he heads up a seven-piece who have an extremely high level of ambition if these five tracks are anything to go by. 'Little Fingers' is more of the same style as the preceding track, but even better. It’s a mishmash of incredibly clever lyrics, a mixture of clever wordplay and intricate social commentary, complete with meaningful shoutout to his parents. This song would easily become the mass singalong that huge crowds just thrive for. I can imagine hands raised high in the air, clapping in time with 50,000 smiling faces standing in front of the band as this boomer echoes through the night sky. This song needs to be heard. It needs to be heard by you, and it needs to be heard now.
'Botanist' begins altogether more subtly, with a crackly electro-acoustic and some, honestly, irritating straight-from-a-keyboard-sfx-setting hand-clapping. The lead guitar echoes the vocals, which doesn’t really work either, but the whole thing as a complete package is upbeat, dainty and a bit of fun. It’s by far not the best on this offering, and needs some polish, but all the ingredients are there for a great tune, and the potential shown, bearing in mind this band haven’t exactly been around for long, (not even a year) is astounding.
'My Lonely Arms' does continue the trend shown with a quiet, subtle intro before exploding into something altogether more explosive. “So I’m saying that I can’t going a day without thinking that you’re fucking my brain” just gets the message across perfectly. This is a fast, powerful, sixties-meets-noighties influenced math rock barnstormer with a catchy hook, intense guitars and could easily cause mass hysteria on a dancefloor down at Clwb Ifor Bach. Utterly fantastic.
Closing with 'Mothr', a demo deliberately spelt wrong, before all your proof readers out there call me out, the tempo slows down just a little bit, but the atmosphere, the intensity and the incredible lyricism continues. Another slowburner that builds intricately towards the final few bars before all stripping away to a lone piano and clicking drum loop, it has to be said that is this is just the demo version, I’d love to hear it completed and fully mixed. “One day I might die without ever knowing why” he laments with increasing vitriol and spit as the track crescendos before the whole thing comes to an abrupt and unwelcome end.
All I can say about this is that five tracks was not enough. I want an album, and anyone else that hears this will surely want for the same. An astonishing effort.
Photo credit: Daniel Boud
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Guineafowl began life as one guy, recording bleeps and vocals and an irritating amount of outside noise above an antiques shop on Bondi Beach with nothing more than a fizzy soda and a laptop. Now, he heads up a seven-piece who have an extremely high level of ambition if these five tracks are anything to go by. 'Little Fingers' is more of the same style as the preceding track, but even better. It’s a mishmash of incredibly clever lyrics, a mixture of clever wordplay and intricate social commentary, complete with meaningful shoutout to his parents. This song would easily become the mass singalong that huge crowds just thrive for. I can imagine hands raised high in the air, clapping in time with 50,000 smiling faces standing in front of the band as this boomer echoes through the night sky. This song needs to be heard. It needs to be heard by you, and it needs to be heard now.
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