Reviewing an EP that goes for 9 minutes is kind of like my love life-fleeting, brief and finished abysmally at an all too quick pace. What’s left when the music finishes its spin is a dark and dismal disappointment that the record won’t keep spinning, and the happy-go-lucky times are finished. But it was a damn good time when it lasted right?
King Tears Mortuary are a Sydney based group who make ‘nice’ rock ‘n’ roll music. There’s some hefty guitar strumming, some dainty drum bashing and sing-song vocals that make Best Coast sound like a racoon coughing up a lung. Goddamn smokers.
Anyway, although King Tears spin away for an unfortunately short 9 minutes, they make every millisecond count. They dance daintily with more melodies than a Sound of Music marathon, but with the aesthetic of a solid night had in the Inner West of Sydney. These are the sorts of good times soundtracked with Nike/Jeans combos, Tooheys New Longnecks, decks upon decks of cigarettes, and an abundance of inside jokes being made.
As for the music itself, they switch between Bloods-ish bubblegeum punk ditties (‘Flippers’, ‘Face Blind’) that stick to the roof of your mouth with sickly sweet infectiousness, and droning guitar pop songs. ‘Grease Trap’ is the stand out, a song that sits there and taunts you into dancing. It’s got a crunch and gravelly sugar-coat that reminds of Vivian Girls. Try and defy the laws of pop on this one-it’s not possible. So don’t you dare try. Seriously, I don’t want to be charged for the hospital bills/existential crisis that’ll follow if you defy the pop genius of this song.
Also, that’s not to say that the other tracks on here aren’t thrashing honeyed masterpieces. ‘Too Many Sam’s’ has a bouncing, energetic riff that comes straight from the ballroom scene in Back to the Future. And ‘False Pregnancy’ is a rushing, breathless garage rock n roll showcase, blasting through fuzzy riffs and mumbled lyrics like KTM were disciples of the 60’s. Which they probably are. So…there’s that.
Basically, King Tears Mortuary have made a damn fun record. And despite my grievances with the short time frame, it works in there favour. They get in, they get out, and boom, you’re left wanting more than Freddie Mercury. Greedy dead bastard.
So, in the sense that King Tears Mortuary pique the interest, they succeed, and a little bit more. They pique the interest, take it out for a nice brunch, and build up it’s expectations to the point where interest thinks there might be a healthy and sustainable relationship to come from it. But alas, ‘False Pregnancy’ finishes, the record stops, and interest waits with baited breathe for the LP.