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Singapore Sling

Singapore Sling was formed in Reykjavik, Iceland in 2000. The band's first album, The Curse of the Singapore Sling, was originally released in Iceland two years later by the local label Hitt Records. After receiving considerable buzz and critical acclaim the album got a U.S. release and distribution on Stinky Records in 2003.

Musically, Singapore Sling are the bastard children of Brian Wilson, perhaps sired with a local groupie on a Beach Boys tour through Reykjavik in the late '60s. They grew up with Wilson's ear for pop melodies but without a chance to see the sunshine, instead taking direction from their discovery of the likes of Sonic Youth and The Jesus and Mary Chain. Their version of pop is grittier, noisier and more dangerous than their hypothetical father's. Singapore Sling take pop hooks, cut them with with screaming guitars and squelchy synths, and run the whole mess through an echo box with the reverb turned up to 11. Once the disk is set to play, the cacophony of sound shoots directly into the darkest reaches of your brain where it languidly slithers around, getting buried deeper in your psyche until you find yourself unconsciously humming the melodies walking to work in the morning, sitting on the toilet, or walking your dog. They're just that insidious.

The Curse of the Singapore Sling covers a lot of ground musically. Songs range from psychedelic, bluesy sounding synth workouts to really full-rolling noisy reverb- and distortion-laden sonic attacks to more personal druggy "day after" lonesome cowboy blues numbers. The band washes all these tracks in the great and long standing tradition of shoegazer post-punk. All of the hallmarks of the sound are here: Bjornsson's vocal delivery ranges from detached to slightly less detached to a little more detached again. Bjarni Johannsson's percussion is slightly swung, driving and front-and-center in the mix, and all the melody and guitars are heavy with reverb and gratuitously noisy. This is the kind of record that would work perfectly at 3:00 Friday morning, rolling in the house after a night of debauchery, feeling like you wanted something to set you up for another round of your poison of choice.

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