Brisbane boutique label Bon Voyage has done a fantastic job in promoting local talent, but with Looks Like Miaou they have ventured to Marseille, France. Fervently ingrained with the underground life-punk movement there that is at odds with the continental beauty of their environment, duo Chloe and Constant have crafted an eponymous record that is intensely raw, a cacophonous maelstrom that echoes out of a rubbish bin with just the right resonance of anguish, isolation and fetid angst.
The guitar lines are warbled, serrated and diseased; the vocals interchange between mumblecore sweetness and light to aggrieved, anguished wails; the hiccupping electronics throughout feel contrived, ad hoc and organic all at once. Canif & Diana Ross is the perfect example of this nihilistic concoction: gritty, furious, yet wholly entertaining.
There are connections with Swedish band Iceage in the wanton abstraction and malaise that impregnate these tracks, and yet there is a warmth inherent in tracks like Minuit 25 that seems to be at odds with the band's modus operandi. Yet this couldn't be further from the truth – the duo do what they want, meaning that the border between darkness and light is always blurred, thus adding to the heightened sense of apprehension.
Looks Like Miaou certainly isn't adding anything new to the noise genre, but the infusion of grime, rank desperation and blatant unease juxtaposed with random spikes of lightness and humour provides a confronting, yet overtly compelling listen.
