Kris & Tavi — s/t
I’m obsessed with this pairing, who continue to proliferate excellent muzaks at nearly the same rate as Kris’ own German Army (as well as his solo output). This murky, post-post-wave self-titled feels like a tossed-off reel of discarded C86 awesomeness. “16/ B&W Colors” simulates some of those familiar guitar murmurs while Tavi’s voice oscillates near the Siouxsie setting. “Onward to Nothing” lurches like a lost Roy Montgomery take, himself a guitarist who has often dabbled in the darker guitar sounds of the United Kingdom in the early times of Thatcher.
However, the weirdest take on my own obsession with this lost sound happens with “Publick Universal Friends,” which brings an Avey Tare/early Animal Collective folksy repetition to Kris’s goth-adjacent melody.
This is the best Tavi & Kris release to date in how it remains grounded in this 80s gray, nuclear winter sound but also begins to explore where else they can take those ideas with mixtures of pop, drone, and dreamy idealism. Kris is always pushing his own boundaries, even if the touchstones he builds upon are well-traversed. Just because it’s a path worn out in the grass and dirt, doesn’t mean it can’t allow for deviation down those roads less traveled.
