Impressive from the off, Cambridge’s Twelve Clay Feet nail their moody colours to the mast with driven opener Cornfed, all ominous tribal drumming, serpentine guitar lines and an explosive chorus, with Ian Jeffs’ angsty vocals centre stage throughout.
And what a voice it is, at once breathy and gritty, a perfect complement to his twin brother Jay Jeffs’ atmospheric guitar work – the melancholic effect created on the likes of Give Yourself Away, Mutant Fingers and Sour Rum floats somewhere between the trippiness of early Floyd and the sombre shades of The Cure.
There are shafts of sunlight here – notably the surprising Zep-styled blues slide of closer Red Moon – but by and large this plays like the soundtrack to a monochrome indie flick. A well-crafted – if dour – effort.
