The humble beginnings of Frog, reassessed

As a record it was perfectly lo-fi, expertly under-produced, and thankfully, unlike this self-titled EP that preceded it, it wasn’t under-appreciated - which is why said EP is getting the reissue treatment. Originally released a little over three years ago to little fanfare, Frog gives newly established fans a chance to explore the band's humble beginnings.

And humble they are too. The production, or lack thereof, offers little in the way of polish, something which is clear from the outset. Beginning with the woozy and lurching “Ichabod Crane” and continuing in to “Arkansas”, the vocals often feel on the brink of becoming lost amongst the frantic and erratic compositions. It's lo-fi, it's off-kilter and it's glorious. Like your favourite local band recording a demo in your living room, should your living room be a garage in 1980s Midwest America. Fan-favourite “Nancy Kerrigan” sees the familiar Frog despondency kick in, but it's the record's B-side where Frog really begin to break through the messy production and truly shine.

Starting with the eight-minutes long progressive meandering of the aptly titled “Space Jam”, it's the first real taste of Kind of Blah new fans are offered, with haunting melodies and Bon Iver-esque harmonies giving way to a subdued post-rock close. It's a feeling carried over in to stand-out track “Rubbernecking”, which could have quite easily found a home on the aforementioned LP.

As a whole Frog probably isn't the best entry point for those unfamiliar with the band. But for anyone who fell in love with the LP and feels they want to hear more, look past the DIY production and explore what's essentially the essence of everything you loved about Kind of Blah.