By necessity, enigmatic London collective holybones opt to be an anonymous band – wrapping their heads in rags became a serendipitous symbol for creating music with a blank canvas. 

This disposition became a fertile launchpad for a sound both unmistakable and undefinable – a thrilling synthesis between pop immediacy, club-ready bliss and more murky ambient pastures: the group’s pool of influences straddles effortlessly between Burial to The Japanese House.

Above all, holybones’ sound feels like an erosion from all the pressures and problems of being alive: streamlined, windswept and human in the most intimate sense of that word. Lullabies for restless city dwellers, embraced within a vacuum of cinematic, impressionistic pop.

“Contemporizing Mike Skinner’s spoken-word dirges, the time stretched moodscapes of post-‘Burial’ Burial, while tapping into a parallel strain of Bricknasty’s restless capture of surround sound dance” – CLASH Magazine