The time has come. After three EPs, sell-out UK tours, and a rapidly developing cult-leader status, the unapologetically uncategorisable Lynks – now signed to the renowned Heavenly Recordings – is ready to unveil their debut album Abomination. Ricocheting between visceral, abject shame and giddy, hedonistic delight, throughout the album Lynks takes us on a dizzying tour of modern queer culture via casual sex, references to Sean Cody, and a one-sided love affair with a straight tennis coach.
With their inspirations pinballing from Peaches to M.I.A, Courtney Barnett to Janelle Monae, and more, Lynks’ sound is something akin to a club night being thrown in a blender. Each genre touchstone here is hyphenated, and every endlessly quotable couplet takes a surprising turn. Self-written, self-produced, self-effacing and self-aggrandising, the album brings together half a decade’s worth of artistic and personal progression in under 40 minutes.
Where their earlier work employed a relentless, collage style of effects and high-octane vocals to carve a unique path, Abomination allowed Lynks the space to experiment in a different way. Here they have the runtime to explore a wider range of ideas, new vocal styles, fresh genre elements and gentle narratives. It’s a flash of unmitigated queer pride, casting off the weight of shame, even if only for a moment. It’s this that might best encapsulate Lynks’ gift – a determination to carry on, to see the funny side, and bring the audience along with them.
On Abomination, Lynks reaches out to their acolytes and the soon-to-be-converted, and invites us all to kneel before their altar.