Pleasure
Australia is doing its best lately to convince me it rules. For the longest time Australia has been the arbitrary target of my ire. I figured, it was far enough away and harmless enough that I could point my unnecessary prejudices towards down under and nothing would come of it.
But then, in the last few weeks, I’ve met a bunch of Australians who couldn’t be nicer or more fun or more awesome. So my mind is quickly changing, and I will soon need a new place to plant my flag of non-sequitor dislike.
So, here we are with Post. An unassuming name to be sure. Post. Certainly, their music could be described as a lot of post- things. Post-electro, post-house, post-baby talk. In the end, we’re just left with a wildly ridiculous song that I can’t get out of my head. As soon as I put it on and the squiggling synths start burping I’m hooked. It’s one of those songs that won’t fit squarely into my collection, but that I love anyway. What’s not to like?
Post is actually one man: James Wilkinson. You may remember him from High Pass Filter. So there. He’s got this little ditty out on a tiny Australian label called Preservation. I'm not sure how to purchase this just yet, but I'm going to track down how.