In making their third record, Hex Key, Mamalarky spent entire seasons hunched over guitars and obscure synthesizers, their long hair sweeping over strings or covering concentrated eyes. The band recorded takes in between the sounds of passing ice cream trucks and yowling stray cats in their LA home studio, a tight but prolific living room. Hex Key is a document of perseverance, of going for the gold while somehow remaining totally aware of one’s own vulnerabilities. These effervescent, swirling songs chronicle vivid desires crashing against real-life limitations but finding a way to keep burning anyway. That tension between anguish and resilience, between performed aloofness and brutal honesty, drives the music, imbues it with a compelling intensity. Over the last 8 years, the quartet’s members have lived in Austin, Atlanta, and Los Angeles, and have established a bond that they acknowledge is rare. “We have an unmatched level of trust in each other,” drummer Dylan Hill says. “There is no air of professionalism. It's literally just four friends hanging out and getting to the bottom of something.” Given their closeness, Mamalarky are able to fight like family, not necessarily with each other, but for the music, to make it the best it can be. Whereas their last album, Pocket Fantasy, was exploratory and free-flowing, the songs on Hex Key are the result of absolute devotion and fine tuning. It’s the kind of attention to detail that can only happen when the four bandmates are working alone together, uninterrupted by producers, engineers, or any outside influences. “It’s never ‘kick your feet up, let’s see what happens,” guitarist and singer Livvy Bennett says. “We’re always staring each other deeply in the eyes saying ‘Let’s make this next take incredible.’ We never settle.” The band is so committed to their craft that Hill even recorded the drums for “#1 Best of All Time” amidst an intense bout of poison ivy. The determination he felt in the moment manifested itself in the song’s frantic-but-focused percussion, he says.
Shall we take a little trip to Essex? It’s east of London but it’s definitely not east London, the land of Blur, Depeche Mode, The Prodigy, Dr Feelgood, wheeler-dealers and dodgy geezers, Maldon sea salt, blokes who wash their Ford Mondeos religiously every Sunday morning, Tiptree jam, Grayson Perry, nosey neighbours, rowdy clubs, Joey Essex, Dermot O’Leary, Squarepusher, Basildon Man, a place where ring road towns lazily bleed into beautiful stretches of countryside underneath widescreen skies. It’s down the A12 and to the birthplace of radio that we’re headed. Keep going past Brentwood and all its TOWIE tanning beds and take a left into Chelmsford, the home of RAT BOY. After a decade of global tours as far afield as China, Japan and the US, a period that has included diversions into hip-hop, US-influenced ska-punk, RAT BOY have come back to base. Their excellent new record ‘SUBURBIA CALLING’ is all about returning to their roots.