turntocrime

From the moment Derek Stanton sneers “I don’t want nothin’/I don’t need lovin” on equally buoyant title track ‘Can’t Love’, it’s clear that Turn to Crime aren’t the summer playlist types. Black-spirited and bruised, their debut album buzzes with droning guitar work, flashes of garage rock snarl and the odd buzzing motorik beat.

Snarling between the oscillating ‘Forgiveness’ – with it’s stuttering percussion and Stanton’s lip-curling warble – and the ragged rambunctiousness of ‘Nightmares’, they work a solid line between Thee Oh Sees and any number of leather jacket-clad types stumbling out of Detroit basement practices.

Tripped-out instrumentals and fatalist derision helps ‘Sundays Cool’ clatter along with a cantankerous rasp before album closer, ‘I Can’t Not Love’, pushes the album’s quick-strike run time beyond the half hour mark with ten minutes of bug-eyed indulgence. Short, scuzzy and perfectly rough round the edges, if you need it, ‘Can’t Love’ is your black, sunshine antidote.

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