The Peep TempelThe Peep Tempel continues to unhinge. The unbridled viscosity of these tracks is channelled through vitriolic liberation (Vicki The Butcher), Wires-esque abrasion with David Fields-esque delivery (Big Fish) and tempered, headache-subduing punk (Untitled). The songs get longer but no less barbed and ridiculous – the Mark E Smith slur of Don’t You Love Me Joan?; the Mclusky-as-coiled-contemplation of Civil Defiance; the cacophonous slide of The Opera Of Lester Moore. There’s little cohesion here bar the spit and gristle of lunatic flair and unhinged airs – but that’s what makes these Tales well worth telling.
