The new LP from Aussies Sachet threads the needle of ‘90s nostalgia, but winds up pulling its thread through some of the more admirable moments along the way. The band’s sound is fuzzed, and lightly flecked with an angst that soaks up the discomfort of the decade, while lacing Nets with a head-nodding melodicism that burrows under the skin to stay. Interlaced guitars, a thick froth of feedback, make the record a formidable contender, but they push it past the threshold with the quiet cool of Lani Crooks’ delivery. Her vocals add a coiled approach to the record, steady but always ready to strike with a hook that hurts and heals. In the past I’ve brought up Kay Hanley and Anna Waronker as touchstones for her sound and aside from the flashpoint closer of “Arncliffe Babylon,” the comparison sticks to the whole LP as well. Crooks slots herself in as a sly striker whose hooks take a minute to manifest but latch on for keeps.
The band grew out of the soft slip-away of Day Ravies, which contained both Lani and the band’s Sam Wilkinson. Where’ their previous band was more caught into the coven of jangles that’s spread far and wide across their homeland, with Sachet they’re moving into a thicker porridge. There’s a slower tempo, like the jangles were caught in humidity and then shocked to live with the gnarl of fuzz and froth. Despite the dodgy name, Day Ravies had an infectious reach, but Sachet seems to be the realization of what they were reaching towards all along. Reverence to an older sound can sometimes sink a band, but their influences and how they digest ‘em seem to make Sachet soar, making Nets one of the low-key charmers of 2020 that deserves a sight more attention. Friday’s a Bandcamp support day, give ‘em some love eh?
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