Brisbane’s band of doomed youth takes timeout from dwelling in apathy and distressing furrow-browed mothers to deliver a three-song 7"record. Their first foray into vinyl sees Kitchen’s Floor continue to carve out dank and mould-ridden outsider pop with a raw, primitive temperament.
It’s a little less rousing and hopeful in mood than their 2009 debut Loneliness Is A Dirty Mattress. Vague melodic hooks break the surface, but an undertow of alcohol induced lethargy keeps them plastered into the ground.**Opening track ‘Orbit‘ is driven by lumbering bass that wanders around in a confused circle, like it’s name suggests. It gives off a feeling of uneasy sluggishness that makes for a good precursor to ‘Regrets‘, an upbeat splinter of dejected garage-punk. It ploughs headlong through raucous guitar chords and anguished bellowing, before a chorus of not-so-jubilant ah’s and oh’s desperately try to lift the anxiety. It’s great, and fully encapsulates the self-deprecating bleakness that this band often suggests, and sometimes celebrates.








