Hater Red Blinders

You can imagine John Peel's hurriedly inaccurate summation of a cold and unforgiving Swedish winter as he juxtaposes the big-jumper-like welcoming warmth of Hater. Their lush and tempered guitars are an almost Marr-approved Smiths-like foil for Caroline Landahl's beautifully accented and accentuated vocal - it's a heartwarming brew. "We know little of their home town, Malmo," Peel might have mused, caught up in Hater's minor chord world weariness, "other than that Roy Hodgson had a particularly successful time there. probably long before this young four-piece were actually born. Indeed. Hater are new to the game. Last year's well-received debut album, ou Tried' earned comparisons to Alvvays, The Pretenders and even Jefferson Airplane, eclectic for sure, but that's just incidental. Their new EP distinguishes their very own super polished and intricate guitar-led dreamy pop. Featuring their first single for Fire, the wonderfully forlorn and truly lovesick "Blushing" (we've all been there) and "Rest" with its haunting monosyllabic guitar break, a super-clean chiming motif that seems like a closing salvo before it regains momentum and brings proceedings to a suitable climax, welcoming back Landahl for one last chorus. The echoey eeriness of ed Blinders' could have come right out of the bubble blowing indie pop hey days of the early 80s, while "Penthouse" is a chunkier c86 groove with a wind blowing through its motorik rhythm.