Posts Tagged ‘Rice’

Equal parts Neil Young, Cat Power and Blink 182, Porridge Radio’s songs are 2 cups of emotion for every tablespoon of salt. The crisp, golden brown surface of Rice, Pasta and Other Fillers belies a childhood misspent consuming The Carpenters, Supertramp and Guns ‘n’ Roses, with a generous sprinkling of the Cranberries.

After a series of home recorded solo demos, a split EP with West America, a single on CHUD records, and a comp with No Dice records, and the growing legend of their live shows, Rice, Pasta and Other Fillers  is the dragged out remnants of sessions done in the band’s earliest stage (summer 2k15). Many of the songs are full band reworkings of Porridge Radio’s earliest bedroom demos.

Rice, Pasta and Other Fillers  lyrics, title and artwork, as well as the group’s name, brings to mind a certain scrapbook absurdism at the core of Porridge Radio’s work. Faced with the dark abyss of existence, the band scrapes together some value from malarky, baloney and balderdash, and then cling to it, giggling, for dear life. This isn’t revivalism, stylised posturing, or calculated blog fodder. It’s not really anything, other than some sad friends expressing some weird feelings in a way that they like and find fun. I like it a lot too. At the dawn of midnight they sacrifice the goat to satan, praying for the end of mankind and the dawn of a new satanic era.

originally released August 2nd, 2016

Porridge Radio – Vocals and Guitar
Madilda Royale – Bass and Vocals
Sam @yaddlepuss – Drums
gorgus corgi stog – Vocals
Snake Leather – Guitar

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“Lilac” is a surrender to the uncertainty of love, and a reaffirmation that its messy realities are worth trying to parse. Against warbled guitars, ascendant strings and marching drums, Dana Margolin screams into the void, “I can never seem to find it,” with the kind of passionate exhaustion that sounds like she’s ready to throw herself into the sea. Despite feeling stuck, she ultimately reaches the conclusion that if kindness and love aren’t noble causes, then nothing is noble. “I don’t want to get bitter, I want us to get better,” Margoli sings as she sides with humans’ better nature and delivers one of the most intense vocal performances of the year. The strings and guitars cry out and match Margoli’s existential urgency, resulting in a late song of the year contender.

The album documents struggles with life, love and boredom – spelt out with sticky fingers by five idiot savants. The lyrics, title and artwork, as well as the group’s name, brings to mind a certain scrapbook absurdism at the core of Porridge Radio’s work. Faced with the dark abyss of existence, the band scrapes together some value from the nonsensical and the pointless, and then cling to it, giggling, for dear life.