Writing out of Manchester and recording in Amsterdam, Georgian’s output is a soft bloom of sullen 60s psychedelia and folk horror peppered with Southern Gothic inclinations. A dusky melancholia of nylon-string intimacy, flickering with ripples of Hammond organ and Leslie cabinets. Songs out of which her voice trickles like warm milk laced with poison; comforting but spiked with an intoxicating forlorn. Mournful and troubled. Like a xanaxed Beth Gibbons with a spaghetti western kink, Georgian tracks have landscape: beards of Spanish moss, stubble-grass and houseflies on the ceiling fan add to the overall wash of dustbowl despair, which permeate the pensive narcosis of the vocal. Having already won over throngs of crowds at Dot to Dot, MCR Psych Fest & Beyond the Music, and with NME, DIY and Far Out Magazine are lining up to call themselves fans, Georgian is earmarked as one to watch

Contact: damian@70twenty10.co.uk
Bookings: paul.buck@teamwass.com

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