Oslo's Serena Maneesh have a dream, and that dream is for it to be
perpetually 1991; the year when fuzzy guitars were god, staring
floorwards was a sign of an outgoing personality, and spiralling off
into six-minute-long, lyric-less opuses was the height of musical
sophistication.
So it's handy that we're in the midst of an
ever-growing shoegaze revival, where this album slots in a treat. It
distinguishes itself from its retrogressive contemporaries with the
added thrill of nascent garage rock leanings, from the chugging
Selina's Melodie Fountain to the vicious Beehiver II.
There are other deviations from the My Bloody Valentine blueprint, and Un-Deux and Candlelighted show the band's wicked way with a dark pop moment (after the latter gets past its buzzing three-and-a-half minute intro, that is) and are glittering, swaying, fulsome songs of the highest order. Just don't dip into the album fleetingly - it's music that's hard to appreciate in snippets, but more than satisfactory when devoured as a whole.
