Food Court

In Australia's oversaturated field of slacker garage bands, Food Court stand out as one of the catchiest. Despite a penchant for noisy guitars, their carefree anthems reveal a huge melodic kick. Maybe it's the influence of Nirvana - singer-guitarist Cristian Campano cites their "magic combination" of hooky vocal melodies and fuzzed heaviness, and recalls crying at a teenage band practive the day Kurt died - and the free-wheeling on-stage antics of Black Lips. They scored high rotation on triple j with "14 Years Young" last year and have just supported Catfish & the Bottlemen. - Rolling Stone Australia

Chances are you’ve probably seen at least one person donned in a Food Court t-shirt, and boyo, if you’d caught their live show, you’d be suiting up in one too. Bashing their way through their signature fuzzy-garage tunes like ‘On The River’, there’s a helluva lot of buzz surrounding the cantankerous quartet. - Tone Deaf

Food Court have been on our radar for a fair while now. The band have enjoyed a swift rise to the helm of Australian garage rock royalty in 2015 with two singles, the ridiculously catchy nuggets 14 Years Young and On The River, garnering them much deserved widespread attention and a couple of sneaky support slots with the likes of Courtney Barnett and The Delta Riggs. They know their way around a pop track, with hooks so contagious they make Ebola seem like a common cold, and For The Morning, their latest offering, is no exception.

... Food Court are the pick of the crop when it comes to Aussie garage rock bands, and For The Morning sees the band maintaining that legacy with more fervor than ever before.

Their previous singles were blistering rock tracks, driven by a pop heart. They were upbeat and bouncy, pierced with rays of sun and caked with salt, and in some ways, kind of adolescent. For The Morning is more like a drunken uncle. It smacks you in the face after a brief build up with singer Cristian Campano slurring his way over a bed of buried fuzz guitars.

He lets the melody do the talking, incoherently snaking his way over a relentlessly paced rhythm section. It’s got a pub rock heart, beer-soaked and somewhat carefree, but also slightly melancholy. There are tinges of what The Living End used to do so well, circa 1998 minus the rockabilly backbone. - Happy