The debut record from Bay Area mutant disco duo Flex TMG — get into the groove, dance to destroy.

"Whether they intended it or not, Flex The Music Group is an extraordinarily apt moniker for this project, in which Fake Fruit’s Hannah D’Amato and Blues Lawyer’s Rob I. Miller exercise different musical muscles without losing a speck of the charisma they infuse into their other groups. They promise “leftfield disco,” and that’s exactly what Whisper Swish delivers. D’Amato and Miller sing tongue-twisting lyrics over fuzzed-out bass and the occasional flanging guitar melody that somehow never get lost amid the booty-shaking synthesizer beats (this is the flex we’re talking about). Whisper Swish taps into what ESG, Deee-Lite, Maximum Joy, and Blondie once handed to disco and punk clubs alike, but with an attitude all Flex TMG’s own. On the penultimate track, “Quiero Que Sepas” (“I Want You To Know”), D’Amato sings about “something you can latch onto.” But she need not worry — you’re already hooked." (Erin O'Hare)


Our take: Whisper Swish, the debut vinyl from the Bay Area’s Flex TMG, comes to us courtesy of Domestic Departure, the label run by Erika from Collate. I’m a huge fan of the label’s small but excellent discography, and Flex TMG continues the hot streak. Taking inspiration from the sounds coming out of early 80s New York, Flex TMG mines artists like Liquid Liquid, ESG, and Tom Tom Club for their dance floor friendly, repetitive punk-funk grooves. While that scene is brilliant in its own right, it’s perhaps more widely known as one of the instrumental backbones of early hip-hop… see, for instance, Grandmaster Flash’s “White Lines,” which samples Liquid Liquid’s “Cavern.” That sound is so baked into American culture I can’t imagine not liking it… it would be like not liking classic Motown or something. Flex TMG isn’t just a throwback, though. They make this classic sound modern, dressing up that rock-solid rhythmic backbone with synth and vocal melodies that sound more contemporary… it’s easy to imagine a track like “Come on Over (Bebé)” playing when you walk into a hip boutique or coffee shop. That might sound like a kiss of death to your average Sorry State reader, but remember this comes to us on a super underground post-punk label with five releases under their belt, all of them brilliant and with small runs and distinctive packaging (Whisper Swish included… you need to hold any Domestic Departure release in your hands to fully appreciate it). Flex TMG might be a little outside Sorry State’s usual stylistic comfort zone, but it’s a brilliant record and I urge you to check it out if the above description sounds intriguing.