This split release, presumably a debut for both Brisbane artists involved, is alluring for its lack of context. Neither artist has a website or MySpace page (nor does the label), and both create music removed enough from their local noise/sound contemporaries that any attempt to classify them, to tag them as part of a “scene”, is immediately frustrated.

The results are mixed. Cup Suits’ six instrumentals amble along and tick a few boxes, mixing brooding drones, distorted guitar, retro-futuristic arpeggios and a dash of field recordings before politely ducking away. It’s the sort of music that could billow into something truly arresting with a little more focus, because it’s too assertive for ambient and lacks the edge of noise. Cup Suits inhabits that precarious ground between those extremes where the word “pop” is often misused, so it’s difficult to tell exactly what is meant to be evoked here. Hopefully it’ll be clearer next time.

Skerreks comes bearing a richer sound. If Cup Suits is the fiddler, than Skerreks is the wizard with an ear for sound design, with each of these five tracks evoking living, breathing environments, some lusciously naturalistic (‘Swans’) and others as cold and muted as chrome (‘The Rest of Infinity’). The drones are either unequivocally beautiful or forebodingly dark, though these channels sometimes cross. When they do, the drama and juxtaposition is rewardingly intense, with ‘Swans’ providing the best payoff. Unlike the least inspired drone, you couldn’t mark each of these tracks with a sad or happy face.

If there’s any logic in coupling these two outfits, it’s probably to demonstrate the artistry involved in creating truly distinct sound worlds, because while Skerreks offers vivid impressions, Cup Suits evokes only the practice: a guy playing in his room.

by Shaun Prescott