Interlard create a loud unpleasant cacophony that very few people would admit to enjoying, and fewer still really do.
Despite tastes eclectic enough to border on the realms of attention deficit, Interlard’s main influences remain: street noise, garden machinery, detuned radios and playing multiple sounds simultaneously.
They unify these diverse influences by saturating them in layers of distorted squall, hypnotic/annoying badly synched, voodooesque drum beats and then more layers of distorted squall. Indecipherable, barely human, voices are trampled, scraped up and then buried by a dense barrage of low-end filth, and then this is repeated end on end like some kind of autistic ritual until it no longer resembles what it hardly resembled in the first place.
Infamously reclusive, Interlard exist, primarily, ensconced in a damp, windowless, subterranean room in a industrial suburb of Birmingham UK. They seldom play live only having been coaxed out into a public setting once, for the very same reasons that they remain a 2-piece band: Partly due to sociopathic tendencies, partly from an apathy borne of isolation and an inability to network.
