Five years, four EPs, handfuls of classic sci-fi inspired posters, and countless sweat-drenched gigs - now, for the first time, the Drab Doo-Riffs are releasing an album. Its 17 tracks are collected from their previous four EPs (many of which are no longer available), stitched together into a new body.
As the liner notes explain, the three tracks from 2009's Bury Me in Drab EP are the bones of the new album; the four from 2010's Postcard's From Uranus are the organs; the blood is made up of four tracks from 2011's Fistful of Dooriffs; and the six remaining are the skin - from this year's Aquatic Ape Theory.
It's this sort of attention to detail and thematic effort that enhances the Drab's appeal, but mostly it comes down to their songs. Their energy is irrepressible, and totally contagious, and they understand the value of keeping things short and focused.
The almost manic, rapidly rhythmic, spoken-word lyrics of Karl Steven and the seductive tones of Caoimhe Macfehin, which happily alternate between a smokey drawl and anguished screams, are a brilliant combination. Much like the pairing of Michael Sperring's high speed, intricate, pounding work on drums, with the bluesy, rolling, twang of Marcus Joyce on bass.
Lucy Stewart's surfy, groovy additions on guitar, interspersed with the odd harmonica/mouth-organ contribution from Steven, cement the (many) hooks.
