In many ways it’s hard to get your head around why Bristol’s Finlay Shakespeare hasn’t already blown up. He drips crossover potential, is clearly talented, and has an excellent work ethic and range of ideas - this is his eighth short-form release in less than a year. But then, the music industry is nothing if not unpredictable, and often unfair to the truly-deserving.
The latest in the artist’s ‘Housediet’ series is a great continuation of what’s already been, or a fantastic introduction to his oeuvre, depending on where you’re coming from. ‘Monadnock’ opens the scoring with its warm, live-sounding bass and infectious groove, with Shakespeare’s desperate, almost-pained vocals invoking everyone from Robert Smith to John Lydon (not least in his Leftfield-collaboration mode).
If that was broken, goth-y indie electronica, then ‘Parkland’ switches the tone up, dropping a punchy, tech-y four that bumbles through demented and distorted, wasp-in-jar segments. ‘Jamaica’, meanwhile, is a track we could write a full page on, if only we could think of more words than dark, hypnotic, atmospheric, utterly upfront, rave-y, garage-y, just-fucking and quality.
Special stuff worthy of repeat.