I can safely say that this is the punkest shit I’ve heard in a long while. Directly derivative of nothing, and only slightly reminiscent of bands like The Sonics, The Stooges, The Talking Heads and The Dead Kennedys, the Holy Gasp are aural sex, untethered and vigorous. A fantastic combination of skilled players featuring Hackman on vocals and percussion, Chris Weatherstone on alto sax/flute/vocals (also of the wild Lemon Bucket Orkestra), Sebastian Shinwell on guitar (Midday Swim, Chrymes), Daveyoso on drums and rounding out with James McEleney on upright bass. They buck the usual boots and braces punk archetype and are more seemingly outfitted for jazz.
Entitled The Last Generation of Love after their debut single, the album launches into an ass-shaking musical tirade that lasts no more than half an hour. When the record closes out, you’re covered in sweat, near unconscious, aroused, and your new world is bathed in red light. After a second listen, I was able to pick up on some of the politically charged underpinnings the band has embedded in the vessel of their frenetic sound. The Last Generation of Love marks a refreshing shift from the litany of releases these days, which offer little, if any, intellectual stimulation in the context of their music. Songs like How I Get Down and The Last Generation of Love make me want to dance, fight and fuck all at the same time. Maybe it’s surf rock, maybe psychedelic revival, maybe Afro Cuban Beatnik artcore – decide for yourself, but good god, have a listen.
Recorded in Toronto over most of 2014 by Josh Korody at Candle Recording studios (responsible for the likes of The Dirty Nil, Dilly Dally, Beliefs, Wish, The Beverleys, Teenanger, etc. etc.), The Holy Gasp released their revolution entitled The Last Generation of Love on February 24th. This record will also enjoy a limited edition cassette run on Arachnidiscs. You can catch them live on the tail end of their tour on March 21 at the Silver Dollar.