Title: Bleeding Songs
Keywords: experimental Lancashire
Label: Wormhole World
Lark once popped up asking if I had heard of Lark before. To my and Lark’s stunning surprise I did not. But today things are different, I heard Lark on Wormhole World, got my head banging in agreement that it was idiotically insane not to have had any Lark in my life before. Lark wasn’t at all as I expected Lark to be, for some reason I thought that Lark would be like an poetic art project mumbling on about poetry on a soundtrack of nothingness; but people and animals, I was so wrong! Although the Lark frontman does make abstract art, the band form of Lark is something much more in our face, an upper to the chin and a toss for our opinion filled egos towards the nearest rubbish bin. A rough sound that feels like a high fever ready to punch around madly, yet friendly enough to stay around for a party.
From the beginning Lark kicked this specific album in with a buzzing guitar and Lark’s singing like a seasoned rocker! It makes sense as the music has been around for a while, as apparently this one is a rerelease of a 2014 classic, it certainly did not stop the Lark vibe to keep itself fresh and up! It might sound even grittier and more provocative than when it first came out; welcome to cancel culture Lark – Lark doesn’t care and waltzes over everything by expressing whatever goes in Lark’s head.
It’s a reason to pick up your battle stick and get your inner Lark out. Which is no problem with this feisty undated Lark now on CD that never seems to stop turning in the nearest CD player of your choice. Digitally it sounds epic fine too! No demonstration of mad people can do anything about it!
Lark comes with a sound that stands like a house among flakey manics, where others would have sunk and abandoned ship; Lark keeps standing strong at the wheel steering this muscular sound into the nowadays and potentially the nearby future. You can’t get to Lark as it is the mystical creature of manliness, with the sound of balls as hard as steel, dangling in your face as faces of ignorance get slammed to the wall.
Lark clearly aiming at our heads too as within the blink of an eye this music shakes itself in and rules over all, kicking us all in to a feast of bulging fiery bombasticnes that let the bald grow hair (just so they can twirl it around like true headbangers), the legless will grow legs (just in order to stamp around with the Lark sound) and perhaps other miracles might happen along the way! Sober people might want to have a drink?
The material by Lark is loud and banging, but seemingly also pretty festive, the kind of sound that you would like to hear when you are out and about in a mystery sweaty state with dodgy looking motorcycle people in a loaded bar, high on a special perfume of rubber wheels , slightly in freeing form of mania with Lark hyping the place up from a dodgy looking stage on a corner. It doesn’t matter what Lark sings about, if it is bloody, provocative or thoughtful, as with so much lack of fear and with so many fists of strength on the table music-wise it will set the whole venue in motion like professional entertainers.
Lark provides the music that makes you want to break things, throw bottles around, cover yourself in a spontaneous fountain of beer while stamping around on the sound of the drums, clapping your hands along with the funny birds, screaming to strangers that can’t hear you as the music is so loud! It’s a party, but not the kind with birthday hats and whistles, more a Lark one in which women and children, men and everyone all suddenly grow heavy beards, have their arms full tattoos and energetically swig around their privately filled flasks with intoxicating mystery liquids. The sound of not caring while still caring about the music and it’s execution of it.
The bleeding song is the vital ballad out here, but I won’t even go there to write about it as I will provoke an entire offended mob that will be ready to cancel yikis through lynching each reporter and probably go for a frantic Lark search with silly hats on. Lark might be able to take them all up, but we are like little elves that wants to stay away from too much controversy and blood. But you can hear it all provoking it’s way through in the middle of rocking banging rockers that the Lark sound is providing.
With heavy dirty baselines, prominent drums, lyrics that are pushy and dirty, all banging around in a fun way that is able to kick down the door of all that was grey, smoking the place up with a raw energy that says to hell with your feelings, emotions, norms and values: welcome to Lark – only their sound and opinions and meanings rule here! Take it or leave it, but if you take it (and can take it!) , please do help yourself at the other side of the following link to a wonderful CD: