<p><span><span>- Sydney-based four-piece Zeahorse return with their third album, the first in over four years - <em>Let’s Not (And Say We Did)</em>. It’s been precisely two years since the earliest look-in: initial single <em>20 Nothing </em>called to account a generation of “selfie-aware” solipsists back in February of 2018. The band itself a denarian and not yet a vicenarian like the quite-literal target audience of the trailblazing four-and-a-half minute track, Zeahorse achieve a new personal best despite their disdain for self-help books and competition (the corporate kind best addressed in fourth song <em>The Ladder</em>).</span></span></p>

<p><span><span>As though the corpse of <strong>The Drones</strong> was reanimated, or perhaps <strong>Young Widows</strong> dragged Down Under, this new effort from the Sydneysiders takes aim at topics including social behaviour: our attention spans’ subjection to endless distractions, instant-but-shallow satisfaction and the undermining of our identities, all courtesy of our cracked screens. In their own words: “the record is filled with ratbag cynicism, big beats and snarly guitars.” Singer/guitarist <strong>Morgan Anthony</strong>’s incisive lyrics operate simultaneously with laser focus and as a shotgun, firing from the hip whilst also observing and fixating; you could be forgiven for mistaking a one-liner or a chorus for a bit of on-stage banter, or for an impassioned and lengthy rant over a couple of cold ones.</span></span></p>

<p><span><span>Seeing the band play at an almost perfect midpoint between their now-two-most-recent full-lengths at a crusty venue in Melbourne, the collective energy and attitude felt seething yet gleeful - joy borne of rage. With <em>Torana Dreamin</em>, the previous release alluded to above, we had a certifiably accurate account of their live performances, however with the unveiling of <em>Let’s Not (And Say We Did)</em> it does now seem as though the band has truly embraced both the fleeting fury of their gigs combined with an unprecedentedly refined studio approach. With the help of engineer and producer <strong>Dan Frizza</strong> (<strong>Gurrumul</strong>, <strong>Xavier Rudd</strong>, <strong>Turtle Skull</strong>, <strong>Flyying Colours</strong>) the group have soared to new highs by paradoxically diving further down the gaping void; vast passages of this record sound like the in-flight entertainment for a journey to hell. Look (or listen) no further than the opening seconds of the album, as the reverse reverb vocals on opener <em>Designer Smiles</em> stun, petrify. After kicking off with a stuttering and emphatic beat you catch a glimpse of what’s to come throughout the entire thirty-three-minute runtime - a rhythm section that may as well be a roadtrain hurtling through the outback. A tenth of the way in, the closing moments of the aforementioned track, the expansion of Zeahorse’s formula of utterly brutal half-time chugging and ensnaring chants is realised like never before.</span></span></p>

<p><span><span>Whether entering <em>Let’s Not </em>through standout single <em>Guilty</em> or relative outlier (and personal favourite) <em>Cut the Slack</em>, Zeahorse's varied approach has been chronologically fine-tuned, aiding the band to great effect. When you boil it all down to the bitter dregs, they exude a dogged determination to not merely hold up the mirror to us all but also to mercilessly smash it.</span></span></p>

<p><span><span>- Chris Preindl.</span></span></p>
<iframe style="border: 0; width: 100%; height: 120px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=2938618982/size=large/bgcol=f…; seamless><a href="https://zeahorse.bandcamp.com/album/lets-not-and-say-we-did">Let&#39;s Not (And Say We Did) by ZEAHORSE</a></iframe>