(£0.00 Incl VAT)
(£0.00 Incl VAT)
Earth Boys - The Eboys LP
Public Release maintains its coast-switching lifestyle with what is perhaps its most ambitious project—and inarguably its longest —yet, Earth Boys’ debut full-length, The eboys LP, the logical conclusion to a chain of collaborations that began, a little over a year ago, with the release of their Trail Mix EP. The two-disc, twelve-track album represents a new high for the pair comprised of Michael Sherburn and Julian C. Duron both creatively and technically; ideas they’ve been stewing and simmering since their splash of a debut in 2015 are now presented fully baked here.
Eboys was conceived as a classic long-player, with the majority of the tunes having a runtime of about four minutes and the whole thing feeling most satisfying when inhaled with one big tug that gets you from the A1 all the way to the D3. It begins with “The Intro,” a sort of manifesto for what’s to come: here, we find Earth Boys sitting, a little wine drunk, at the piano, attempting a slick jazz lick that sits atop shuffling breaks and is completed with a free-wheeling sax soliloquy, courtesy of local friend Jeff Hackworth. Think of it as Sherburn and Duron’s title credits sequence à la Saturday Night Live. Then it's a splash of water across the face and onward to business with "Roll it Back," a flexy, laconic warmup workout that sets the tempo and pace for the party unfolding. The rest of the first side is a woozy, pads-and-vox drenched crisscross through deep house tropes that unhurriedly tumbles into the B-side, a slinky, sharper-focused movement that begins with the G-funk-dusted “Bossa Nova Gang,” an homage to Bossa Nova Civic Club, the Bushwick dance-music incubator that the boys came up in and around.
With the next disc, Earth Boys nudge the tempo up a smidge and get a little punchier, first with “Come Thru,” an elliptical party jam with a fat, bouncy bass, then even more so with “Blue Iris,” a ravey anthem illuminated by black lights and lasers. The journey begins to come down with “Last Call,” a slo-mo wobble to the bar for one last shot of a perk-me-up, and then folds back into itself with “The Outro,” a chill-out finale that burns the remainder of the journey down to a sticky resin.
Vinyl, LP, Album