No one would confuse Toulon and Manchester and that's just as well: Curtism clearly doesn't owe its name to a notorious disease, the Iancurtism, which is rampant among post-punk bands. While the influence of Joy Division lurks here and there, this young band's debut EP already demonstrates a strong identity.
And yet, there is a cold wave heritage in doityourself, but melancholy takes precedence over anguish, the bass doesn't exude the same urgency and shoegaze introspection imposes less sharp nuances: Curtism also cites The Cure as a role model, and it's easy to see why. Along the way, the band surprise us by breaking the rhythm and incorporating more rocky, visceral touches into their music: Curtism could opt for heaviness, but stays within a poetic, ethereal nostalgia, saving the biggest jolts for later and the finale of otherways, where the guitars take precedence over the vocals. The spleen is expressed in French on violin & bille de verre: refreshing without being icy, thanks again to this bittersweet balance, this youthful nostalgia for a time that has not yet really passed, nor really arrived. As you'd expect, if you dance, it's with a sad expression on your face and your eyes turned towards the ground, with coolkid at the end, and always that lo-fi touch that gives it the air of a revolt that doesn't yet dare fully explode for fear of attracting too much attention.
While respect for their elders is always a comfortable foundation, Curtism's strength lies in their own emotions, the personality that springs from their discreet vocals, their outbursts that veer towards almost sunny post-rock (but veiled in fine grey clouds) and sometimes away from the intensity and frenzy of gothic cellars. Curtism pulls no punches, leaving the controls to their own particular sensibility and giving this first EP that touching energy, stripped of certainty, showboating and publicity stunts, but full of sincere hesitation.
