Moon

From the moulting expectations of Tobias Rochman:

Halifax group Moon’s name is either paying tribute to Divorce Records owner Darcy Spidle’s daughter, the directorial debut of David Bowie’s son, a bare ass, a cult or all of the above.

The blank, bold, minimalist gesture that is this self-released CDR’s packaging is a clever comment on cyber-capitalism, the diminishing role of the craftsperson in the digital age, disposable blog music as a tribal signifier used in sexual courting, and the modern record label as a middleman mournfully splitting the crumbs of a pie no one ordered.

This is an impressive debut. It is a snake in dog’s clothing, moulting expectations, shedding careless first impressions and slithering towards the heat lamp of your heart. Moon’s reflective pop music offers itself as a companion, setting the world to a kraut-beat like a ticking clock, a soundtrack for all that happens until that unseen final moment when — your foot already in the stirrup — death’s famous black horse arrives.

For those of us not anticipating the expansion of government controlled drone-killings on home or foreign soil, tangerine coloured “reality augmentation” glasses pumping ads straight to our retinas, or the slapdash reality TV contest that will decide the next leader of the Catholic church, at least we’ll have more from this promising group to look forward to. - Weird Canada