Australian genre-benders and punk manipulators Tropical Fuck Storm have never been the band to pigeonhole, and it would be a fool’s errand to try. Even in its rawest form, their refreshing power ballads warp the mind and melt the face while maintaining a welcoming humbleness that makes their off-kilter rock music so accessible. Born out of the ashes of The Drones, TFS emerged in 2017 and has continually found nuanced ways to display their dense walls of sound. With three studio albums, a live LP, a string of EPs, including a collaborative project with fellow Australian rockers King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard, and a cult-like fanbase to back it all up, TFS’s artsy rock has laid the groundwork for even more artistic freedom. Which begs the question, what does a band that knows no boundaries do when even those parameters are eliminated?
The answer is Fairyland Codex, the warping new LP from TFS that is bountiful in its risk and even more overflowing with its rewards. The ten-song LP is as wonderfully weird and entirely unpredictable as you would expect from a TFS release, although this is not the same level of experimentation fans might be used to. Rather than worrying about breaking norms and smashing expectations, the band has reached a point where they can begin to compete with their own catalog. Instead of looking at the rock world and studying its nuances to find their twist on them, TFS has begun experimenting with the sound they have built for themselves. The releases leading up to Fairyland Codex seemingly became the inspiration for the album, but this is a far cry from a band becoming comfortable in their success; it is simply a deeper dive into the intricacies of a sound extremely unique to a young band.
The new TFS album is a familiar yet alien island crafted by the band and open to the public. It is crawling with mystifying melodies, glistening guitars that transition from gentle twinkles to explosive walls of distortion, and imaginative songwriting. Fairyland Codex finds the band expanding on the lofty visions that make them such an exciting band, giving their fourth album the feeling that we’re being introduced to the real TFS for the first time. There is an underlying layer of confidence and maturity that shines through the cracks of this album, like on the complex single “Goon Show” or the cinematic and sprawling eight-minute title track. It is moments like these, and the slow-burning “Stepping on a Rake,” that highlight TFS’s enticing new direction, but that does not discredit the moments the band drops their shoulders and lets their prowess fully unravel.
For all the daring moments of vulnerability, TFS has an antidote. Songs like the glitchy and infectious “Bloodsport” and the murky grooves of “Joe Meek Will Inherit The Earth” find the band toying with electronic bliss and blending it with their soaring harmonies and love for vague yet potent storytelling. It is those moments, when the band slows down the pace, that create the immersive sonic conflict at the heart of Fairyland Codex. The fact that a touching, pop-tinted ballad like “Bye Bye Snake Eyes” can sound right at home on the same album as the searing guitars of “Irukandji Syndrome” is a testament to the sonic universe TFS has crafted for itself.
Fairyland Codex is a victory lap for a young band that has proven so much in a small amount of time. These ten songs pull out the smallest detail of the band’s unique sound and stretch it to its furthest limits, landing the band somewhere between home and uncharted waters. Fairyland Codex is the amalgamation of years of experimentation, and the payoff is a vast sound that can bend and twist to the will of TFS, and it would appear the band is just getting started.
