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Rating: Cigarettes. Wine glasses stained with lipstick, left half-empty in a dimly lit room. Tears and mascara. Revenge. Suppressed resentment, centuries old. A familiar face recognized in passing, amid the crowd of a gray London morning. Melancholy. Cigarettes. It's the voice of Emily Gray, the singer of the now-defunct Meanwhile Back, in Communist Russia. Around her whispered monologues lie disordered synthetic melodies, delay, homemade electronic rhythms, and straminimal guitars, with sporadic eruptions. Minimalism and pathos, this is Meanwhile Back. The synthesis of the grand cauldron called Post-Rock.
They have been described as "Lydia Lunch meets Mogwai". Yes, that's fitting: sick and sinister the first, atmospheric and full of emotion the latter. The comparison fits. But with a few more cigarettes.
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