One of the most surprising records I chanced upon all year, which I did way back towards the beginning of it. Still sounds great:
An album quite unlike any I've heard thus far this year and one with a specific and quite wonderful charm. God's Trash Men Sent to Right the Mess, from Belgian duo Fievel is Glauque, is the record in question. It's a collection of brief but inspired musical collages that combine the joys of off the wall freaky be bop, left bank experimentalism, daisy era hip hop eclectisism, and outre derring do. Hope that gives you some idea of what it sounds like. Possibly not.
A record that came out at the end of January and one I've only just picked up the scent of. Well, better late than never in this case. Very much so. There are twenty tracks on here in all and most of them check in between one and two and a half minutes. It doesn't hang around. God's Trash Men is a blast from the first second of its opening track, a truly new variation on well trodden paths and an altogether delightful listening experience, pure and simple.
It's certainly a blast, at the risk of repeating myself, that's for sure. Reminding me sometimes of the early Eighties Jazz and retro adventuring the likes of Everything But The Girl, Prefab Sprout, Weekend and The Bristol scene groups that orbited around Rip Rig & Panic indulged in. God's Trash Men... is a record that sounds ahead of the pack in every respect and is certainly the most truly original album I've heard thus far this year.
These are not so much tunes so much as fragments. But they're fragments that make complete sense. The record finishes with its longest track. The four minute closer ironically entitled No Title, which has a brilliant end effect with singer Marie-Amelie Clement-Bollee intoning the title like a stuck record, bringing this inspired album to an utterly inspired close. Paris, polo neck, 1960, London, polo neck, 1980. Brussels it seems, polo neck, 2020.
This is a record that you want to recommend to people. To buy so you can play it to them. To buy so you can play it to yourself. I hope it breaks out of cult corner. I doubt it somehow, Can't seem to track down a vinyl version as of yet. But my goodness, it deserves to. It's a small but beautifully formed classic. Hear it.
P.S. Slight disclaimer. This record might never surprise you quite like it does on the first listen. On my second or third now and it's slightly less startling. More comfortable. Like a cosy armchair. I'd still maintain it's a quite wonderful record though.
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