Poliça

If you're busy and you have other shit to read, I will sum this album up in one quick sentence (and potentially offensive send off) before continuing on with more descriptive handjobs to help coerce you into loving this album like I do.

Poliça is the electronically treated and layered female vocal version of Bon Iver, with unbelievable fucking dual-drumming, patchy stubble and it's fucking magically delicious. Peep my erection.

If you have to bail on the review, feel free to go ahead and do so now, the rest is just me man-sturbating about how fucking awesome this shit is. Go.

You guys still with me here then? Thanks dreamboats!

Poliça has the immediate bounce of Little Dragon, the drums of a fucking waterfall of ball bearings crashing onto a tin fucking roof, and the bottom end of a dub thumping LTJ Bukem record. It's easy to cool out and space out, while at the same time you find yourself sitting closer and closer to the speaker to feel what singer Channy Leaneagh is going on about. One of the album's producers Ryan Olson, mastermind four square player and noted (bearded) power bottom, fucking delivers a fast paced black and white movie soundtrack of futuristic intensity, "that waiter just stole my fucking shoal" anger, and again, fucking drums so fucking deadly I actually lost my wedding ring while playing air drums on Violent Games.

If you're looking to be both hugged and kicked in the fucking balls, I urge you to insert some Poliça into your ear holesies. I'm so fucking impressed with this project, and so fucking irritated that Ryan Olson has his hands in another fucking project of awesome, that I'm already amazed that my Best of 2012 playlist has its first album all up in its guts.

The combination of two insane drummers on top of a fucking ridiculous bass player and an absolute doll of a vocalist means this entire album, and its testicles, belong in your throat. It feels like taking a perfect half hour shit and a nice long and loud burp, on mushrooms.

Channy Leaneagh, Drew, Ben and Chris (two Marijuana Deathsquad-ers and a Vampire Hands-er) are absolutely fucking annoyingly perfect on Give You The Ghost, and I hope they read this and know that I'm flicking them off and hating them publicly, while continuing to show this album to friends and family and strangers and saying how much I hate them.

Fuck all of you.

But seriously watch this and then tell me you won't be dreaming about two drummers and those fucking vocals: