“The band carry a sufficient confidence that when the time comes for them to take their next step, we trust it’ll leave us impressed.”

The wunderkinder of Speedy Wunderground, fresh off their hot-selling 7” pressing, The Lounge Society burst out of West Yorkshire into your speakers with the short and sweet Silk For The Starving EP. When probed in our upcoming fourth issue’s interview, the band elucidated that the EP was the product of an intensive and raw recording process. Fittingly, the word to best describe this fledgling Yorkshire post-punk band would be “honest” — a strong display and a solid step forward to unlocking their promising potential. Wrought of some energetic lyricism and musicianship given the weight of expectations on such a youthful four-piece, The Lounge Society’s attempts to maximise their four track output here are noble, and ought not go unnoticed. 

Silk For The Starving opens with ‘Burn The Heather’, a track now long-available. Its opening grips you, the drums keep your attention laser-focused on the instrumental. The muffled monologue around the end of the second third is frenetic and tense, leading into a last hurrah for the titular lines and the instrumental before it slows to a crawl and sees us to the door. ‘Television’ is a real highlight, with jangly guitars and a jaunty percussive groove that, combined, offset the admittedly deeply bleak lyrical themes almost enough to push the track into the “danceable” category. Only almost, though; this one is simply a catchy head-bobber that spent a moment too long marinading in angst. This isn’t unwarranted angst either, as the track’s a real reminder that the state of media is one of discontent and unease, embedding the perpetuation of misery deep into our culture. 

‘Cain’s Heresy’ lets the gang flex some more angular guitars, with a real kick to the instrumental and more of that characteristic Cameron Davey energy on the vocals as we’ve heard developed across the EP. It’s in the same boat as the opener, but with a more impatient and reckless attitude in every note; you get the very real sense that this one will conjure many a frantic gig moment. ‘Valley Bottom Fever’ joins ‘Television’ as a relative newcomer, with a sadly more underwhelming outcome, despite some overwhelming input. It’s reassuring to know that the authenticity of their recording process bore fruit for the intensity of these kinds of raw instrumentals, and the band are clearly jamming full-throttle, though the track’s vocal offerings are sparse and lack the same sort of intimate engagement that others possessed. Subsequently, the lyricism here is similarly frugal: classically damn-the-man lyrics that fall flat with their relatively indistinct brand of angst. In what might be the only track with a noticeable clash of such strong musical efforts, it’s a shame they ultimately drown each other out in a way that would be much more engaging live than through anyone’s speakers. In a similar vein, the track’s introductory and closing samples don’t seem to add all that much, especially when the former is blanketed over with guitars before it gets any room to breathe. It’s reassuring, then, that the other three tracks bear significant promise and seemingly more polish than this fourth cut.

The primary shortcoming at play is a shared lack of runtime and novelty — not that runtime necessarily correlates one-to-one to quality, though some further samples of what The Lounge Society have in their repertoire would not have gone unappreciated. Furthermore, if only one of the four here felt mishandled, extrapolating about the band’s potential for a full-length album is an exciting idea. It’s the lack of novelty that holds it back; there’s a strong energy and evident cohesion between the bandmates but you’re left with a feeling that they’re playing it sonically safe, even when they’re more daring with lyrics and instrumentation. Fortunately, though, the band carry a sufficient confidence that when the time comes for them to take their next step, we trust it’ll leave us impressed.