Blue Daisy’s debut, The Sunday Gift, is incredibly evil, tremendously unapologetic in its completeness and simply sweeping. I’m sure this album was only separated into individual tracks because… well… because it’s simply done that way. Other than that, there are no borders to be seen: 12 tracks – one solid attack. »London’s best kept secret« (Boomkat) manages to use electronic music in order to have a subtle thread surge into an outburst, of which the actual realization is even more traumatic than the fear of it had been. At the beginning, there are perfidious bass-loops lurking around in the background for more than ten minutes, it’s billowing and flickering everywhere, while the last people on earth whimper their last begging chants. And then, out of a sudden, it all dissolves in echoes; something is whispering here, something else is shrieking there. All that is combined with strings from the far east, an abandoned glockenspiel and the quiet before the storm is a perfect one. Blue Daisy has already proven that he knows how to get a storm going on his EP Strings Detached and he is proving it yet again: in Shadow Assassins, the synthies are bawling, the basslines get entangled; it sounds like a sandstorm on a dwindling planet. The very last bastion of humanity fall with Psyche Inquiry: noise, industrial rock, UK-bass, distorted raps; you only know that you don’t want to get between those barrels. Our colleague Aigner almost scratched those tracks off the vinyl, and neither would I like to skip to one of the two songs individually – but in their overall context, it all makes sense! It’s an exhausting album, it’s a challenging album, but everyone should at least once make their way to the flickering neon-lights of a perishing metropolis – because Blue Daisy’s sound creates those images in an impressive and haunting way.
The Sunday Gift
