Mere WomenSydney trio Mere Women have upped the ante by tightening the screws on their second album.
The recording itself is integral to the overall anguished, claustrophobic atmosphere, sounding like everything is reverberating off the walls of a shipping container. There is tightly calibrated tension (Home, Astray), contorted theatrics (Heave Ho) and the syncopated dashing of dreams (Our Street). Amy Wilson’s vocals are the lynchpin here, carving through the serrated guitar and thumping rhythms, a beguiling siren that presents a Rubicon of outer angst and inner depths, all coalescing in a force within which to drown.
