DAMEFRISØR - Island of Light

Bristolian six-piece DAMEFRISØR trade in an urbane brand of gothic disco rendered in a retrograde new wave polish. Adjacent to the grimy realism of Glasgow’s VLURE, this debut EP delivers a bumper package of colossally stylish despair: think the elemental widescreen of Echo and the Bunnymen’s baritone fantasies with all the shoegaze swirlscapes a passing obsession for the Horrors’ ‘Primary Colours’ could provide. Just as the pulsations of opener ‘The Grip’ or the brittle techno drifts of ‘Horizon’ captivate through a mechanised hypnosis, the thumping slow-burn drama of ‘Above Board’ or ‘52a’ rock and cascade with steaming-hot bloody mindedness. The epic drudgery of the former soundtracks the most would-be tragic coming-of-age romance of all time; the latter slyly and magnificently moulds itself into a My Bloody Valentine-esque seductive supernova. Like their titular image of the ‘Island of Light’, DAMEFRISØR manifest dazzling brightness within the considered greyness of their creation. And while this debut so blushingly kneads through the key inspirations that fill its heart, its urgency, and its will to stir up desires, slot so comfortably into the here and now.