Call Upon The Author

Seemingly, the name Katie-Jane Garside is a familiar one, or atleast, it should be. As resident scream queen with creep-thrashers QueenAdreena, Garside is a formidable force of something unlike nature. So thus, Ruby Throat is a curious expressive experiment. It is her sweet falsetto that grabs from the get-go. Its an obvious, if not wholly disappointing start as Swan and Minotaur-Troubled Man goes places that alt.folk treads often. House of Thieves is a gateway though. It’s swaying acoustic rhythm and disparate side guitar makes for a pleasant backdrop for aforementioned Garside to sprinkle down some wonderful vocalisation. It’s a haunting CD, one of mystery and, for once, some goddamn atmosphere. I’m not adverse to actually hearing some soulful production and it’s not all softly softly; Consuela’s Newt is an example of some chewy-pseudo pysch blues rock. Every time she shrieks “I don’t wanna die” it reminds me of a garbled sentence etching through a female orgasm. And THAT is why I like it, damn it.