If music often acts as a means of escape, then Syd Minsky-Sargeant must have really wanted to get the fuck out of Todmorden. “Trapped inside a town inside my mind / Stuck with no ideas, I’m running out of time,” begins heady opener ‘Valleys’, and the rest of ‘Working Men’s Club’ feels like a defiant fight to ensure that defeat doesn’t happen. From the aggy, squalling guitars of ‘Cook A Coffee’ to the almost Orange Juice-esque riffs of ‘White Rooms and Other People’, ‘WMC’ is a debut like no other in 2020, one that lands completely out of step with any current sonic trends. Instead, it offers an intriguing window into the brain of the 18-year-old, where beats plucked out of the Factory Records school of dance music, and futuristic keys that New Order wouldn’t sniff at reign supreme. Having clearly wigged out on the ecstatic powers of a repetitive, ravey synth motif (‘Teeth’) or a skittering, industrial drum beat (standout ‘A.A.A.A’), Working Men’s Club’s first combines them with aplomb - but it’s the underlying sense of unease and something to prove that really adds the edge here.
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