There's something undeniably visceral and raw about everything that East Brunswick All Girls Choir do. Exaltation and exorcism are part of their musical modus operandi, such is their commitment to making music that embraces emotion with unflinching directness.
Teddywaddy, the follow-up to their acclaimed Seven Drummers, charts a course through coruscating punk-laden peaks and drifting, desolate valleys where the songs are stripped and stretched, allowing singer Marcus Hobbs' voice to take centre stage. Though the dynamics and playing are excellent throughout, Hobbs' voice is the deal breaker here. Exile Spree is the centrepiece of the album with his voice stretching further and further after each breath of air. From a wavering wail to a throat-stripping howl, Hobbs conveys a bucketload of emotion. It makes the languid, wandering country-folk sound of Never Never that follows even more effective.
This band's ability to utilise contrast in their songs is never overplayed, which is a testament to their songwriting and arrangements. Freedom of expression and restraint are both key aspects of why this album works so well. Whether it be the pummelling post-punk dirge of Cicada Chirps The Chicane, the soulful gospel-tinged lament of Old Phil that indirectly channels The Drones, or the widescreen warmth of the closing title track, the same wistful spirit runs through all these songs, making for an intense and cathartic listening experience.
