It has been almost exactly a year since Tupper Werewolf released an EP packed to the brim with intrigue. The Glaswegian artist also known as Gordon Barr is comfortable in great halls of synthesizers, each one seemingly more festive than the last. There is color everywhere, and not only in a figurative sense; browsing all of his discography on Bandcamp, each piece of art incorporates no fewer than four colors. The brightest of the bunch being Flavour Country.
With a groan and a brief moment of industrial awakening, “Pianohammer” comes to life, with a tender melody that drops in between the verses on the keyboard. Eventually a crackling voice joins the party, foreshadowing the spoken word vocal content of the lead single from the release, “Mouths.” This post-punk techno ballad was written in response to the UK government’s refusal to negotiate for the Erasmus program, which had helped bring friends of Barr’s over from France. It mourns a friendship and maintains a steady melody which, as he revealed to The Skinny, “started life as a digital replication of an adungu (a Ugandan harp).”
Determination is a key component of Flavour Country, guided largely by consistent four-on-the-floor beats but also by the stories in “Mouths” and perhaps even moreso in “All Sorts” and “You Can Do It.” The latter wears its emotion on its sleeve, but, contrary to his approach on the previous track, “All Sorts” maintains a façade of unease, lightened incrementally by the hallmark of the EP: bright, winding paths of bubbling synth.