People Used To Live Here is the haunting new full-length from New Zealand-based SPOOK THE HORSES. In advance of its November 10th release via Pelagic Records, today Decibel is hosting the official US premiere of “Crude Shrines” noting of the latest hymn, “rumbling bass is met by sad guitar melodies and restrained percussion paired with a mysterious video. The atmosphere is ultimately similar to that of SPOOK THE HORSES‘ previous releases, despite its quieter nature.”
View the pensive video for “Crude Shrines” courtesy of Decibel Magazine RIGHT HERE.
And if you missed it, check out “Lurch,” still playing at Treble at THIS LOCATION.
People Used To Live Here will be released on CD, LP, and digital formats via Pelagic Records. Preorder options are available below.
Imagine if band members could rotate between instrument positions, because each musician had a proficient grasp on each instrument involved? It would supply a degree of freedom and mutual musical understanding, something that most bands could only dream of. SPOOK THE HORSES, from Wellington, New Zealand, are such a band.
Perhaps it’s this multi instrumentalism and virtuosity that explains the vast musical territory that is explored among the band’s three albums: while 2011’s debut album Brighter was defined by sweet post-rock crescendos, 2015’s Rainmaker was a much heavier affair that would appeal to fans of Cult Of Luna or Amenra. The band’s forthcoming People Used To Live Here, in quiet stark contrast to the aforementioned, sees the band turn the distortion knobs way down, to a mildly saturated crunch tone, at most.
“Writing this album gave us the ability to experiment with song ideas we felt weren’t appropriate on our previous albums,” SPOOK THE HORSES‘ Zach Meech elaborates. The band’s most daring effort to date, People Used to Live Here explores the natural and immediate. Written and conceived in relative isolation over several grim Southern Hemisphere winters, SPOOK THE HORSES is defining their own sonic trademark with this album: an atmosphere of quiet desolation, raw and real, desperate and unsettling; the post-apocalyptic soundtrack to abandoned places, where people used to live, at one point in time, long ago.
“We deliberately isolated ourselves when writing this album to force us out of our comfort zones,” adds Callum Gay. “Most of the songs began as completely improvised pieces that we slowly fleshed and developed over time. We wanted to make sure that immediacy was captured and conveyed in a way we’d never done before. There’s much less between us and the listener this time around.”
Fans of Bohren & Der Club Of Gore, Kilimanjaro Darkjazz Ensemble, Mogwai (Come On Die Young), and Amenra (acoustic), pay heed.