WHO CARES? by WHO CARES?

SKU144395
ArtistWHO CARES?
TitleWHO CARES?
LabelPURELY PHYSICAL TEENY TAPES
Catalog #PPTT09
Tag
ReleaseW 18 - 2026
FormatVinyl - UK7'
Exclusive
 € 15,99 incl. VAT, excl. shipping

Tracks

  1. pussycat
    https://objectstore.true.nl/rushhourrecords:files/tracks/t/tbc_who_cares/who_cares-_-_who_cares-_-_01_pussycat.mp3
  2. discipline
    https://objectstore.true.nl/rushhourrecords:files/tracks/t/tbc_who_cares/who_cares-_-_who_cares-_-_02_discipline.mp3
  3. vale of tears
    https://objectstore.true.nl/rushhourrecords:files/tracks/t/tbc_who_cares/who_cares-_-_who_cares-_-_03_vale_of_tears.mp3
  4. hard yakka
    https://objectstore.true.nl/rushhourrecords:files/tracks/t/tbc_who_cares/who_cares-_-_who_cares-_-_04_hard_yakka.mp3

Description

Very Limited 7” EP with printed lyric inner sleeve

Purely Physical Teeny Tapes continue to sink their teeth into the fleshy nethers of the contemporary oz
underground, plucking the self-titled ep of vivisected bedroom folk by naarm/melbourne trio Who Cares?
from the recesses of net anonymity for the greatest of good.

Upon appearing out of nowhere back in ‘24, the quartet’s debut registered (feverishly) somewhere
between immediacy & beguilement, the intervening year & change doing little to dull its aura, the
mystique only heightened by their suitably gorgeous appearance in wonderful company on a colourful
storm’s recent ‘going back to sleep…’ compilation-extravaganza. The conceit of these four tracks here is
disarmingly minimal - repetitious loner guitar strummage, oblique vox poetics as lullaby, intermittent
sunken percussion, bass the subtle melodic lugger - all recurring/revolving in delicious pirouette freefall,
un-rinseable within the mind, wayward melodies stuck like heat-warped treacle.

As with the firmest of its diy domestica ilk, there’s something ever so slightly off here, the carnivalesque
nature of this thing being the ‘what?’ that keeps pulling you in. parched ennui drip, fully zonked bacchanal
(anti-)energetics, listlessness rendered bedsit anthem, cooees in the hallway. depending on how your
head is screwed, ‘correct’ or otherwise, one might hear a charmed take on a vein of folk song fallen well
by the wayside/behind the mantle, others a seance for the spirits in the kettle, others more attuned to the
myriad wraiths swirling within the outer reaches of these songs, flights of whimsy foiled by a sticky, gluey
something or other. choose, or rather submit to your own adventure. Miaow miaow miaow.

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