Any serious music listener will tell you they are not always seeking replication. Not especially where they are in the slightest aware what they are after—or looking for in a new and/or different stuff—sounds like. In that regard, Post-Punk is neither a different story. Once one gets a slight indication of what shit presents itself to be, it is better to stick to the best purveyor of the sound in question. Times are few when duplicates conquer their masters.
Once the Garage squiggles of [Demo] jar in as the first track spans out, My Dark House storm with affection yet the vocals are very reminiscent of Ian Curtis and as becomes expectant—to a scale of six—, the undercurrent of the music is precise Post-Punk bass drum verity. The other off leash is downtuned Shoegaze—almost to black doom levels, propagating the Nu-Gaze—on the third track that gives it a heavy vibe to a gravitating effect. As soft as the vocals could be, a bleeding palette on immense in boire carous to outpour tweeny emotions. Smudged a little, then smoothly flowing.
The promise here is that once the actual band’s sound is grasped effectively, then divulged through a much distorted lens, it wont provide a staler. Actualizations of Joy Division with less syntactic appreciation may eventually pay off. Worthwhile an effort, like the bassists unrelenting pulse.