Fellatio

From Bissau to Palau, in the shades of Avalon – Fellatio’s crash course to infamy has so far been resplendently rotten. Imagine Surfside Sex taking place in Lord of the Flies, or Suicide and The Fall jamming together in a rabid, ghost pepper-induced delirium, and it would approximate the debauched self-coined “post-kraut sleazepop disco” concoction this Dutch trio conjure together. Their jagged, propulsive sound manifested out of sheer accidental brilliance. Fuzzed out, feverish, and decisively droney. Fellatio became a lightning-quick word-of-mouth live sensation, spreading like a blight from Rotterdams stirring underground scene to the great beyond. Indeed, Fellatio’s pilgrimage has only just begun. Photo's by Mees Princen and Pol Sangster