LA duo Flaamingos often draw comparisons to Manchester s favourite dour lads, Joy Division. Indeed, there s a grim British Northern-ity and a plethora of analogue synths, proto-shoegaze fuzz, shards of punk and almost-comatose vocals that they share. The two acts run parallel with their post-punk jamborees, though there are also major dissimilarities: there s a wide-eyed pop pang in Flaamingos sound, and they dabble with gloopy 90s textures much more readily. Despite the pair Daniel Koontz and Jerry Narrows hailing from the palms n beach bums of Los Angeles, there s a rich Britishness to their sound, which roughly translates to them sounding anhedonic.
Fin Du Monde , juxtaposing against the melodrama of its moniker, is deliciously peppy.
There s a grungy streak that forces you to remember that the twosome were born and bred across the pond, but aside from that, it s again pretty British, with early 90s fuzzgaze dominating the sound think along the lines of Kitchens Of Distinction and/or The Durutti Column. She s Never Satisfied essentially boils down to Koontz and Narrows taking a stab at modernising She s Lost Control with its rampant, erotic percussion and gritty 80s council estate melodies as the vocals come across all deathly dark, simmering with a sinister lust.
On their debut effort, Flaamingos manage to channel a deluge of admirable acts. There are the obvious nods to Ian Curtis & Co. as well as a bit of New Order, but also a few more subtly hidden flecks (Bloc Party s devilish angst crops up in All I Wanna Do Is Live Silent Alarm era, of course). Jagged entwined axes and maudlin poetry pepper the cut Found the dotted line/ It travels from a distance every night/ all those paintings/ stitches in fabric/ I admit I want to be your habit. You can easily hear legendary outfits like The Smiths, as well as contemporary bands such as M O N E Y and more straight-up indie rock la Editors. Although there are lines to be drawn between Flaamingos and others, they resist gravitating towards a tribute full of derivatives by imbuing their distinctly post-punk wares with the wooze and appeal of dream-pop.
Fractured Love has a robotic baritone ringing throughout. The instrumentation is delicate in comparison to the rest of the record, and the melodic bass guitar has a platform from which to shine. Bass is relatively underused, still, so when an intriguing riff rears its head, it s easy to magpie and adore. The percussion is frail and flighty, and the textures lucid; guitars glimmer and vox fade like a fever dream. Fall With Me stands out as something different. It s a trippy, mushroom-d effort with a swirling visage. Throbbing synths and shattered words (and samples) float aimlessly with a hypnotic M.O. it s more psych-pop than post-punk.
Absorb the shadows that Koontz/Narrows lob in your vicinity; it s got a goth-lite mentality; at points will incite transcendent bouts of thought, and at others a furious fit of arm-flail jiving. Flaamingos will nest in your mind.
