As culture becomes oversaturated with '80s throwback sounds, Tim Kinsella and Jenny Pulse imbue their adjacent style with a fresh sense of intimacy. They chart the erotic, emotional journey of their relationship in their debut collaborative album, Good Fuck.
Kinsella's output has been continually characterized by a sense of breakage: from Cap'n Jazz to Joan of Arc, the music has always felt on the verge of falling apart. However, with the inclusion of Pulse's minimal experimentation, Good Fuck, at least initially, feels structurally robust.
The album's opening, "We Keep It Light." maintains the fragmented imagery put forward by their unitary vocals. This steady delivery stands in contradistinction to the lyrical subject matter — cryptic passages from literary works, exploring the vitality of a blossoming romance. The matter-of-fact delivery, paired with the production style, echoes Serge Gainsbourg's infamous latter output.
As with many relationships, Good Fuck's "ever-expanding and infinite art museum" threatens to crumble. Once we reach "Shadows," the duo's repetition of "I'm a good person" verges on uneasy self-affirmation and darkness. While the often-pleasing beats maintain a sense of stability, it's in the vocal delivery that Good Fuck chart the erotic highs and introspective lows of a romance.
There are points on this LP where the production sounds dated rather than nostalgic. However, in its concept and delivery, Good Fuck stands apart from past projects in the artists' oeuvres. Shying away from the humour of Joan of Arc, and avoiding the total abstraction of Pulse's work, Good Fuck is an honest and visceral work of erotic contemplation.
(Joyful Noise)Kinsella's output has been continually characterized by a sense of breakage: from Cap'n Jazz to Joan of Arc, the music has always felt on the verge of falling apart. However, with the inclusion of Pulse's minimal experimentation, Good Fuck, at least initially, feels structurally robust.
The album's opening, "We Keep It Light." maintains the fragmented imagery put forward by their unitary vocals. This steady delivery stands in contradistinction to the lyrical subject matter — cryptic passages from literary works, exploring the vitality of a blossoming romance. The matter-of-fact delivery, paired with the production style, echoes Serge Gainsbourg's infamous latter output.
As with many relationships, Good Fuck's "ever-expanding and infinite art museum" threatens to crumble. Once we reach "Shadows," the duo's repetition of "I'm a good person" verges on uneasy self-affirmation and darkness. While the often-pleasing beats maintain a sense of stability, it's in the vocal delivery that Good Fuck chart the erotic highs and introspective lows of a romance.
There are points on this LP where the production sounds dated rather than nostalgic. However, in its concept and delivery, Good Fuck stands apart from past projects in the artists' oeuvres. Shying away from the humour of Joan of Arc, and avoiding the total abstraction of Pulse's work, Good Fuck is an honest and visceral work of erotic contemplation.
