It's typical dont you find, it's the end of the year and thoughts turn to considering what was for you the best album of the preceding 12 months and just when you've laboured and finally narrowed down the blighter along comes something to make you stall, stop and rethink. Crawling out of the London shadows, or so it would seem, KULL are Marina Elderton and Lika Protsenko who together between themselves spell craft a bewitching and beguiling brew of buckled and bruised blues, as though peeking deep into the darkened and more psychosis stricken elements of your record collection where it be your record stash harboured such celebrated names as PJ Harvey, 'scream' era Siouxsie (none more so then on the tortoured 'coocoo value'), Mr Airplane Man, Katastrophe Wife and the Smoke Fairies, with the latter mentioned as though refracted as an evil twins mirror reflection. Brooding, ethereal, eerie and darkley beautiful best describes the duo's gnarled and primal visitation upon would be sound systems in the shape of their ultra limited 11 track cassette only release.
Recorded straight to tape in one live studio take the sound of KULL is all at once haunting and harrowing, seductive and scarred and steeled in a primordial swamp dragged goo whose reverb soaked echoes rumble and ripple to a stripped bare devil dealing dialect that growls and purs to an archaic aural ancestry forged at the crossroads. Emotionally grafted here is a raw choking carnival of dark desire and macabre melodica that oozes in petrified passion and is imparted with a sometimes fairytale foreboding at the time bleached in the growl of muddy twangs haloed seductively with siren like vocals that shriek, coo and enchant an alluring apparition like aura to proceedings, here you'll find the tearing ache of the lovlorn 'Deer Skin' adorned in floral flurries and wound tight to a bewitching sigh as though a macabre fall out from the 'wicker man' soundtrack.
The white hot 'Background Radiation' opens side 2 to a frenzied snowstorm of drowning mantras and sinister machinations from out of whose fog bound blur emerges the ghostly spell charmed '7th Day'. Elsewhere opening shot 'Silence' dreamily trades with devouring subtly to strains of Komeda's 'rosemary's baby' while the parting 'Avalanche' reveals a more then passing nod to psychosis sapped Nico in full furious flight. Those preferring a bit of punch to your steel cold atmospherics should take a peek at 'Susanna's Awake' a withered poke you between the eyes slab of buckled bubblegum psych pop loveliness that slyly shimmies and sidesteps Vega with much admiring aplomb. All said and aforementioned references aside, admireres of the much missed vigin passages may find much here to swoon to, there's also an equally ultra limited EP currently kicking around in record world that apparently comes housed in a lyric book which we'll have to nail. For now though and at this moment the best thing on planet pop right now. www.kullmusic.com