If Nick Cave should ever decide to hang up his elegantly pointed shoes then Taylor Kirk, front-man with Canadian trio Timber Timbre, would make a worthy successor to the dark lord’s crown.
Since their self released debut in 2005 he has taken the band’s sound down many dark and moody paths, initially variants on malevolent folk, but with this new record they’ve plugged in the vintage synths and gone full cinematic dystopia.
Inspired by a world which is looking more like the opening scenes of a disaster movie by the day, Kirk and cohorts have concocted a set of songs which musically owe a lot to both Vangelis Blade Runner soundtrack and Berlin/ Fame era Bowie. Yet it’s Kirk’s sonorous, bottomless baritone voice that’s frequently the star here. Whether crooning like Richard Hawley in a terrible mood or marshalling a kind of morbid funk with an almost spoken-word austerity his voice is like treacle holding the record together.
The songs creep forward at their own pace through a barren electronic landscape before erupting into life with shuddering power.
There are strands in these songs which connect back to everyone from Talk Talk to Tindersticks, from This Mortal Coil to Suicide and it’s spellbinding stuff