Electric shocks of high voltage distortion pierce through the soundscape to zap unsuspecting eardrums with all the prickling surprise and disappointment soaked into the sour sharp bubblegum pop vocals.
There is a nostalgic twinge to the haunting broken piano of the intro that laces uneasily underneath the crackling answer phone machine set up. CARR paints a vivid picture of the relationship at the heart of the song, but the pretty frame shatters with explosive force when it is frantically flung into the wall and the track kicks off properly.
The raw and bloody heart of the track spurts gushing crimson emotion from a gory open wound. Musically it manages to merge the soft-spoken vocals with the viciously aggressive frenzy of the central riff. The balance is unsettling but perfectly embodies the dizzying dissonance of feeling that lurks behind the lyrics.
This isn’t love lost, there is no real venom or spite, and it doesn’t linger in maudlin moaning. ‘How To Lose A Friend In 10 Days‘ is an account of young love/lust and the confusion caused by a relationship lacking honesty and true substance.
CARR effortlessly navigates the cool and collected detachment of the track’s tender moments back into the feral fire of the ferocious middle finger flipped in its passionate chorus. ‘How To Lose A Friend In 10 Days‘ is the carcass of an unhealthy relationship split chin to crotch on a morgue table, sinew still flailing from jolts of electricity.
There is a real maturity to the lyricism that on one hand tells the all too familiar story of young heartbreak but on the other, tattoos the tale in thickest black ink as an epic to learn from. There is a righteous rhythm to the bounce of its dagger-sharp riffs that cut deep enough to feel, but skillfully soft enough to leave a bizarrely beautiful scar.
If you like this bedroom bedlam pop slice of angst and acid check out the ‘TV Boyfriends’ EP for plenty more.