Flatlands - Sunshine Republic - split - LP (2006)

Labels: SuperFi
Review by: Alex Deller

Flatlands play grunting, drawn-out sludge that’s typically morose and oppressive. Urgghhhhh. They drag two tracks across their side of this slab of grey vinyl and there’s very little joy to be had in their murky domain. Sure, there might be the brief twittering of birds on that second song, but it’s not long before things sink once more into subterranean realms of sorrow and gloom. Like I said, Urgghhhhh.

Sunshine Republic are the surprise boon here. Their cruddy name made me expect some kind of wonky European emo, whereas they are, in fact, more in line with Asva or the kind of stark landscape Earth painted with their Hex album. They play one long, slow-motion instrumental with lagging drums and a feeling of eerie, malevolent emptiness about it, gradually dissolving into a series of groans, drones and hissing white noise as the needle drags its weary way across to the finish line.