Two Shells: Icons EP Album Release


Given their fun public image, it might seem like Two Shell collapsed into the hazy international of UK largemouth, like a sparkling explosive in a cement factory. But in reality, the strange London jeetwin arrived in a Trojan animal made of understated things: fragile materials, hardy voice hues, insistent rhythmic heartbeat. Their 2019 breakthrough EP for Livity Sound fit neatly with the slimmer, rhythm style of folky UK club music. Their upbeat leanings received analogies to Overmono and Bicep, UK duelers renowned for supersizing underwater themes for big-room audiences. And Two Shell tweaks — like “Wedding Practice” it creates a slight attempt to disguise a sizeable chunk removed from Alicia Keys’s guitar “If I Ain’t Got You” place them in a type that will work alongside actors like FourTet and Jamie, and how they utilize clever tapes as floor-filling event qualifiers.

But not long after they’d created themselves as promising skills operating within a well-defined street, the shift had been reversed, the unknown jeetwin turned into a more playful character. On Two Shell’s 2020 combination CD, 21, music by classical functions like Skee Mask and the Prodigy was upped against bits of digital-native features like nightcore and hyperpop. They’ve lately coated their songs with helium-huffing lyrics reminiscent of SOPHIE and laced their holds with playful switches of Sugababes and the Corrs. Digging is part of what a dj does, but listening Two Shell lower 4k tunes of unknowable grunge randos implies an attachment with Gen Z’s online avant-garde which you won’t consider among some of their post-dubstep colleagues.

The audaciousness of Two Shell’s producers seems to be aligned by The flatness of The duo’s display. The Boiler Room character at Barcelona’s Primavera Sound fades months later, they started out wearing ridiculous masks — vest and cloth animal fluke with one, joker ponytail and nylon-stocking balaclava on the other — both were nearly obviously miming to a pre-recorded combination. There are still theories that the Two people behind the boards were not Two shells at all. The depth you drop through The Two Shell looking glass, the more the entire company begins to take on the sky of a grade-A piss, a fuck-free send-up of the latest DJ society. Yet on Icons, their greatest significant update to date, the song, at the least, This is no prank.

Compared to the breakneck pace and cotton-candy materials of their current wooden updates “Home> Reading> Home /Archives for the _ Home>” Icons ‘five songs at first noise nearly remained. There are too many sped-up lyrics and snappy synthesizers, but the tempos are much more tested, forms are smooth, the heartbeat stays close to the previous decade of bass-heavy UK genre. Happiness Orbison’s game-changing 2009 music “Hyph Mngo” Is their noticeable lodestar; you can listen it almost verbatim in the hiccupping voice circuit in the beginning “Ghosts” and the flickering synthesizers of “Pods” which says. Whereas it’s hardly a disguise option — no song did more to mark the end of the music period and the start of the noncrystalline aesthetic free-for-all that accompanied it — it’s been a while since someone focused so resolutely on the song. Practically each part of Icons feels manufactured to copy the woozy jump of partying at its most exciting, when you hear a new sound for the first time.

Two Shell are lord tricksters of pressure. “Ghosts” that the sky only retains, encouraging update and afterwards pulling out the blanket as its soaring components implode in a shaking pile. “Dust” uses a lively, to intensify its pulse-raising frequency. “Pods” is even more white-knuckled, operating a hazy voice test through a scratchy magnetic sensor that makes it sound like everyone is screaming bloody murder somewhere dark in the belly of the song.

But as full-on as the song can get, they peak off with a lighthearted blossom of intertextuality. “Pods” interludes midway through to make way for a sing-song software tone chanting dbms opcodes. “Calling digital rockstars” It warbles, and also is quickly replied by an artificial acoustic. The relatively horizontal and groove-driven “Dust” the voiceover of a Google flight controller is repeated, remembering related strategies by Drexciya, Daft Punk, and DJ Koze’s pairing “International Pony”. “Memory” makes the most extensive use of these self-consciously online materials; its somber, Vocaloid-inspired song may have arrived from a section of unopened PC Music clips. All these extras have the effect of unraveling any prospects of self-seriousness; the heart may be big, but the tone is about as light and fluffy as Cool Whip.

The title song is, “Mainframe” pauses with the slender melodic and wide-eyed delivery of the first several songs. A mid-tempo breakbeat melody decorative with jagged strands of corrosive largemouth, It’s a pretty clear tribute to the colourful, huge rhythm noise of the’ 90s, Down close to the tuner touching impact. Hampered by its half-time percussion and moist midrange, it’s the only music on the EP that ever accomplishes blastoff, but the fashion, at the least, was totally a hero for Two Shells. Equipped with kinetic heartbeat, wry verve, and the fairy dust of a sneakily installed test, they’re obviously interpretation upon recapturing the bloodline of UK electronica at its boldest and brashest, attempting to take their place given classic duelers like the Chemical Brothers and the KLF. They’re not there yet, but Icons suggest they have a really good chance at it.