The Maitlands are less of a band, more like the axles on Roy Schneider’s truck in Sorceror. In the time since the release of ‘Diving In The Shallow End’ another Mait has ended up tossed onto the pile of Maits we used to know; the hatchet buried, too much daunted in Derker, no more kisses for the masses.
But hey life goes on and The Maitlands go on. As always, through the jungle paths in a wagon full of TNT. The power, the unpredictable engine, the loose grip. The shit yer pants thrill ride.
‘Diving In The Shallow End’ is a storm of noise, but elegant noise at that. It was thought The Maitlands would never do “psych” but this be psych indeed, heavy psych for heads no less. Reminiscent to these ears of the arid Spaghetti Western psych of Lola Colt. But having condescended to the masses and given them their bread and fishes, The Maits have tricked the lot with an underlying elan, danger and melancholy in that tale of pushers. It’s got a simple, resonating chorus that spins from the whirlpool like the emergence of Arronax from the debris of the Nautilus.
The Maits are releasing single after single like shot after shot. They’re drunk behind the wheel and no everyone gets out alive, and that’s the way they like it.
https://themaitlands1.bandcamp.com/track/diving-in-at-the-shallow-end
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