Serena Maneesh - Drain Cosmetics
You've probably heard of Norwegian eight-piece Serena Maneesh. Tales of mesmerising androgynous music that fills headphones, rooms and stadiums with its towering grandeur. You may have heard all these claims, seen their sunken cheekbones and dismissed it all as hype. Well, if you have there's a good chance I won't be able to sway you here.
If you've still got an open mind though, let me reach across to you, from this keyboard, across the many miles and through your cold, blinking monitor, let me implore you. Buy this single. If you buy no other repetitive, dirge-ridden ode to shoe-gazing aural miserablism this year, buy Drain Cosmetics. Like the last petal on the last flower of autumn slowly falling to the ground but with the drama and pathos magnified a thousand times. It's all at once cinematic, bombastic and glorious and haunting, cold and fragile.
I can't think of a song so far this year so aptly named as Drain Cosmetics. All the beauty and tragedy of a star burning out its last in the bleak emptiness of space.