Like a crackled dirty Portishead, ‘Alone’ bubbles in-and-out of transition, with soulful sensual moans from Flavia as if in mid-heat. With compressed drumming this brilliantly morose offering effortlessly melds into ‘Shivers’ a song that automatically brings to mind the siren sound of Lana Del Rey with its ventures into broken romanticism and wanton sexuality. Drenched in reverb, the album is a provocative ode to the lonely back lit bar of a Bordello; a slinky crawl through the muffled whispers of heartache and analogue love. Flavia's vocals are stained with childlike confusion that often morph into a bitter hazy swoon. Perfectly compounded and warped by the psychedelic guitar breaks and sedated low-fi beats supplied by co-artist David Lampley. The raw and unnerving aesthetic of this 17-minute album is enhanced by the honesty in the simplicity in Flavia's vocals and how well they are teamed with the grinding bluesy waltz of Lampley's instrumentals.
Title track ‘Slow Tapes’ crowns this coarse and crunching production with an ode to heartbreak. A hybrid of Warpaint's vocal innocence, Del Rey's hedonic drawl and the orchestral hymns of Beach House, this carnal offering is a re-exploration of a collection of tried and tested styles and yet manages to re-invent and stay original with its genuine despondence. A great accompaniment to sipping iced whisky in the thick, warm air of a mid-summer dusk and reminiscing over lost loves or long lurid nights.