by Conor Lochrie (@conornoconnor)
Another week, another curious new post-punk band; if you’re involved in music currently, it’s an epidemic you can’t avoid or ignore. Not that you’d want to really because the genre’s revival hasn’t yet reached the point of over-saturation that wrought the gruesome and banal ‘indie landfill’ which followed the rise of the Arctic Monkeys and The Libertines in the UK around the turn of the century.
A new, keen post-punk outfit still needs a unique selling point though, something that makes them stand out in a crowded flurry of contemporaries and luckily Melbourne’s Delivery do. A classically-amalgamated DIY project from the city, the five-piece comes from several other fine Melbourne bands, including Future Suck, Kosmetika, Blonde Revolver, and The Vacant Smiles. Their debut EP, Yes We Do, was released last month via the always reliable Spoilsport Records (Hooper Crescent, Eggy, House Deposit) and it uses post-punk as a mere base to build new wave synths, pop flourishes, and tunneling garage guitars on top.
Delivery was formed in lockdown by the couple Bec Allan and James Lynch and this new joint project meets at an intriguing confluence for the pair: known for being in the searing straight punk groups Future Suck and Blonde Revolver, this is the softest musical palette Allan has ever used. Lynch, conversely, tended to lighter and poppier fare in bands like Kosmetika, Delivery allowing him the opportunity to explore heavier territory.
It’s a fine balancing act but it works. Over a relentless and swift four tracks - all are tightly wound two-minute pieces - they alternate between dark and light, rowdiness and restraint. Allan leads first with “Floored,” her voice full of insouciant indifference. A sharp and incessant guitar line soon descends into a scuzzy freakout in the middle, repeated once more at the end for good measure. “The Explainer” is then an infectious mess of programmed beats and zigzagging rhythm, Lynch this time taking on singing duties in more sincere fashion. It’s a delicate trade-off but one they pull off.
“Rubber” is the most pointed track lyrically, a sharp rebuttal to a local music store that doesn’t take non-male identifying customers as seriously as it should. Allan returns, singing quietly but confidently above a nervy, wiry guitar line. The jaggy and resounding “Brickwork” closes the record, all subtlety out of the window in favor of frenetic thunder and power.
With off-kilter production touches and a restless spirit, a full-length release promises to deliver more surprising and inventive turns from Delivery. With a clear connection within the band and an effortlessly cool atmosphere, they have plenty about them to continue in the post-punk resurgence.