Yo, I heard you liked Mac DeMarco so I got you something that so out-DeMarcos DeMarco that it’s French. Don’t question that sentence. Here come Brace! Brace! with a triptacular tune that takes you in and out of consciousness as it fluctuates so wildly even the Mona Lisa’s eyes wouldn’t be able to keep up with it.
It feels so incredibly surfy and free that you’d be easily tricked into heading outside in nowt but your shorts, only to discover that you’re actually in Farnborough where it’s -8 degrees outside (according to BBC Breakfast, according to my colleague) and you’ve been right tricked. This is what I imagine the cool kids are listening to as they hang out on street corners, dressed in clothes that are so ’90s it hurts as they bully me into buying them beer, only to discover I haven’t actually got my ID on me and I look so baby-faced there’s no chance in hell that Pinot Noir will be leaving the Waitress tonight. It’s surprisingly cultured this, as if it had spent a summer abroad in… Well, I would say Paris but then I remember they’re actually French. Right?
Get your head underground and pop this in it, you might just be transfixed.