Smile At Your Shoes

While a lot of local guitar bands are taking the wonderfully named ‘Dolewave’ route of slack pop’s well worn path to bedrooms everywhere, Food Court take the seemingly less trodden track. Their style heads back to the garage, producing a scuzzy, punk-scarred brand of rock.

The Sydney quartet’s line-up boasts members from Betty Airs, Pretend Eye and Salvagers, and their debut EP darts between the sonic gloss of the 60s and the guitar grime of the 90s.

The six tracker kicks in with a bratty and lusty ‘I Want You’, the desperate pining of the lyrics matched with similarly ratty and urgent guitar blasts and ripping drum fills.

There is a real sense of  teenage romantic hopelessness, boredom, and desperation about the songs. With food courts being the main venue for these feelings to fester and dwell, the band are perfectly named. They must’ve got a bit at some point though, as ‘Smile At Your Shoes’ is a bounding bassline-filled ode to loving every last thing about someone.

‘Not Enough’ is fantastic, right from the lament of its opening line, “There’s no buttons on my shirt”. The track leads to a deeper ponderation with, “Why do voices in my head talk me through the life I’ve lead” amid a storm of overdriven fuzzed-out riffs, sweet, jangly vocal hooks, and dreamy harmonies.

This is a super punchy debut of great sharp songs perfectly snapped frozen on tape by the hands and ears of the venerable engineer Mikey Young. Get it.

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