[The Soundcarriers are four dashing fellows from Nottingham in the East Midlands in England. They make music that sounds like it was forgotten next to a campfire on a hiking trip back in 1972, but in the name of sustainability was lugged around in a battered old knapsack for the next half-century. Sounds like this could be fun. The band made four albums in five years, after which they rambled off into the woods. On »Wilds« the guitars now breathe Woodstock, the tambourine man jangles around nervously, someone weaves three lion’s teeth into their hair and licks the right vines. This creates some veritable afternoon ecstasy for Bayern 2 listeners. In other words: if you want to get your Schpotify algorithm in the mood for drugs, pair up the Bluetooth box at the next co-working massacre and give the monkey some sugar. »Wilds«, the first Soundcarriers album in eight years breaks out the chemistry set – almost as if the narrow-gauge exotics of Khruangbin had stumbled across Syd Barrett in the Seventies to pop of the worst LSD to be found between London and Madchester so as to make up with one another, before waking up on a stage with Stereolab in the Nineties and looking like a real proper charlie. Sorry, we were stoned!
Op-Art
The Final Act
Cititrax