DURO DOUBLE LIFE “Psyched for the Yin-Yang” C32 (Haord Records)


First, let’s get it out of the way: Haord Records acts sound as warped as the picture on the j-card of Duro Double Life’s Psyched for the Yin-Yang. They’re misshapen, seasick, oblong, wobbly, and impossible to pin down in any meaningful way. They’re synth-punk rejects who have too great of a sense of humor to take seriously yet are too good to completely dismiss as parody. Duro Double Life is no exception, and therefore fits the Haord mold like oozy slime trying to fit in a mold: it splats out without taking a solid form, but its jellified remains are filled with bits of solidity that ground it as a life form of some sort. Did I say human? No, I did not.
Named after a biodegradable paper bag – because why not – Duro Double Life drips their debut sonics all over these tape spools, their sickeningly warped songcraft filling the air with mesmerizing greeze. Somehow everything sounds half-liquid, and that’s a good chunk of the appeal of Duro Double Life: a percentage of the songs remain songs, another percentage literally dribbles from your speakers like you were in a 1980s kid-suspense movie, say Gremlins. That’s right, Psyched for the Yin-Yang somehow manages to entertain via wonky juiced effects while also bubbling like a body-horror sight gag gone horribly (and terrifically) awry. Duro Double Life’s early Ween-meets-Melvins low-end while squirming with quarter-speed Devo delight is an absolute vomit-surge to the senses. And I mean that in the most complementary way possible.