Listening to No Record Home felt like stumbling into the linework of a Picasso, with the hues of roaring chords and shaky brushstrokes making it clear, this is an abstract album like no other. The once blank canvas evolves into a distorted delight in only 40 minutes, and armed with a brush, Kim Gordon truly leaves no hostages. With no mercy, she strikes the canvas viciously.
To simply observe each track is a waste of time, you must step into the frame and be among her jagged colours. Reds and blues echo in her prickly percussion, creating a violent violet that thrashes alongside the thunderous bass. Kim Gordon ’s riotous critiques ring through neon caricatures, the satirical scripts shining from within the lines of each lyric; “Touch your nipple, pretend you’re mine.” At first glimpse, each painting feels out of place, but the cohesion from portrait to portrait gives the strange silhouettes a new stamp on the scene.
For a debut release, No Home Record is Louvre-worthy and, personally, from her ravishing collection there is no lyrical masterpiece that can conquer “You can pee in the ocean, it’s free”. It’s just so elegant, so graceful.
Haiku Review Abstract silhouettes That lie behind the canvas Invite you inside