Tundra Love at The Edge of The Wedge, Southsea REVIEW: 'Terrific, creepy and hard'
The tundra is a cold place where survival is a struggle but four-piece band Tundra Love seem to thrive.
They breathed a chilly wind over the eager audience.
The Tundra is for most, a featureless place with very few landmarks or points of reference, Tundra Love, however have several distinguishing and noble reference points.
Cold with the hoar frost of Joy Division, post-Indie landscapes; deep chasms of vocals sound assured. The rhythm section is almost telepathically tight.
And there's the complex and skilful delivery from the two guitarists at times cascading like John Squire at his Stone Roses peak, with moments of Will Sergeant of Echo and The Bunnymen’s psychedelia.
But Tundra Love are more than their influences combined – they have a unique take on their crackling soundscapes, painting a scene that keeps them new, young and hungry and desperate like a carnivore stalking it’s prey.
Paradoxically the guitar-work could also be reminiscent of San Francisco ’66-67, not flopping around in kaftans, but more the musical dark arts of Quicksilver Messenger Service and a (Grace-less) Jefferson Airplane.
I am frozen in music, go to the Tundra and they’ll trap you too.
Terrific, creepy and hard. Excellent.