There’s a captivating vulnerability to the latest self-professed “no-fi” record by Passion Pusher, with wavy distortion, defeated melancholy lyrics and wailing defeat that bleed together on first track ‘Moving House’, with vocals that float under the surface like mumbled after-thoughts that just missed the mark, Passion Pusher captures unrefined emotion that’s continually lost in more finished production.
Conveying everyday matters with a rich crooning vocal and ambivalent delivery is likely to beg comparisons to slacker-pop aficionado Mac DeMarco, but unlike Mac, Passion Pusher has undeniable integrity in his morose moments; where Mac would deliver with a wry smile, you get the impression Passion Pusher has zero force upholding his songs, they’re more of an ebbing of and extension of being that leaves no consideration for crowd-pleasing.
And why should he, with a record that’s got hints of early Red House Painters or Low in it’s slowcore moments, feelings of loss and helplessness are his musical scenery.
There’s an inevitable calm quality when the end product of adversity is translated into an easygoing soundscape, his aptitude lies in sharing those quieter moments that are less than exhilarating, more than melancholy and translating them into something universal.
‘Say You Love Me’ lends a despondent optimism with its looping, jangly guitar, while ‘MY//MY//MY//MY//MY’ is increasingly more upbeat, with interspersed guitar parts washing over an insistent humble drum-machine track.
All the songs are around the two-minute mark; neither in a hurry or unfinished, it’s simplistic but profoundly comforting music.
Passion Pusher’s record isn’t concerned with pleasing anyone, he’ll tell you his inner-monologue, awash with underwater distortion and woven with 90s influences, and it’s all relative whether the message is received.
Surely that’s getting back to the point of things (oh, and the emblematic Twin Peaks bandcamp header is great).
FUCKED UP ON YOUR FLOOR – EP by Passion Pusher
Words: Heather O’Donnell
