Lynks - Abomination

This is what happens when you give a mic to a twink,” sings London’s masked drag icon Lynks on this, their debut. By the time punchy penultimate confessional ‘Lynks Thinks’ plays, with its wry spoken word bars diffusing over bubbly electronics, the answer to that implied question is abundantly clear. Across ‘Abomination’ - which rids religious shame in favour of scalding, erotic damnation - Lynks dissects the modern queer landscape, whilst paying homage to gay history’s electropunk highs and lingering horrors in equal measure. The result is a raucous ode to sex positivity, where the act is social currency - “My life ends the day I’m not invited to the orgy,” they spit on the thumping ‘Use It Or Lose It’ - and survival comes second to desire. “If I get murdered I’m sure I’ll only have myself to blame,” Lynks surmises on ‘Sex With A Stranger’, before recommitting to reckless abandon over largely clubby cuts. Closer ‘Flash In The Pan’ - a metaphysical Bleachers-meets-Perfume-Genius 80s synth-pop epic - soon breaks the matrix: suffocating under inevitable mortality and religious judgement, Lynks concludes that these persistent horrors are just as fleeting as bliss, so it’s best to make the most of it. A vintage-future gay epic, ‘Abomination’ is a singular debut and quintessential cultural capsule - of both post-post-punk and gay modernity - from one of the UK’s most fearless off-piste queer acts.