Lynks

A force of the unnatural - a pop-star fed through a Nutribullet - a human bag of speed - the fourth horseman of the queer apocalypse - Lynks is here! Pretty much every Resident has experienced the excessive, addictive, electro-punk chaos of the Lynks live show at least once.

Some of us have been there many many times. Now, finally, we can experience the Lynks effect in our home at the drop of a needle / press of a play button, as their hedonistic delight of a debut album is here to wreak havoc!

There is nothing quite like Lynks. An unpasteurized shot of electro-punk chaos compressed into the shape of a human man, wrapped up in a gimp mask, creating tiny queer utopias wherever they goes. And what utopias they are; sub-blowing, criminally danceable beats, anthemically witty lyrics about the darkest corners of modern life, and pure, unapologetic, camp excess colliding in a fog of sweat and confetti.

Ricocheting between visceral, abject shame and giddy, hedonistic delight, throughout the album Lynks takes us on a dizzying tour of modern queer culture via casual sex, references to Sean Cody, and a one-sided love affair with a straight tennis coach. With their inspirations pinballing from Peaches to M.I.A, Courtney Barnett to Janelle Monae, and more, Lynks’ sound is something akin to a club night being thrown in a blender. Each genre touchstone here is hyphenated, and every endlessly quotable couplet takes a surprising turn. Self-written, self-produced, self-effacing and self-aggrandising, the album brings together half a decade’s worth of artistic and personal progression in under 40 minutes.

A dizzying tour of modern queer culture for fans of Peaches / Scissor Sisters / Confidence Man / Metronomy / Lady GaGa