{"id":99804,"date":"2025-08-08T09:00:02","date_gmt":"2025-08-08T08:00:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/alreadyheard.com\/staging\/?p=99804"},"modified":"2025-08-07T22:25:10","modified_gmt":"2025-08-07T21:25:10","slug":"review-humour-learning-greek","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/alreadyheard.com\/staging\/review-humour-learning-greek\/","title":{"rendered":"Review: Humour – Learning Greek"},"content":{"rendered":"

Glaswegian mob\u00a0Humour<\/strong> first came to my attention earlier this year with\u00a0‘Neighbours’<\/em><\/a>. The paranoia-induced number blended post-hardcore blasts with a post-punk twist. It’s also the opening track on their debut album, ‘Learning Greek’<\/em>. Framed as a way for frontman Andreas Christoloudis to come to terms with his Greek heritage, the album draws on Greek poetry, mythology, and culture, weaving\u00a0in themes of loss, grief, and the fear of death.<\/p>\n

Musically, Christoloudis, along with guitarists Ross Patrizio and Jack Lyall, bassist Lewis Doig, and drummer Ruairidh Smith, navigates an uneasy blend of jangly slacker rock, jagged post-punk, and unhinged post-hardcore. It’s threaded together by subtle intensity. Tracks such as ‘Die Rich’<\/em> and\u00a0‘Plagiarist’<\/em> lean into Humour<\/strong>\u2019s off-kilter tone, pairing it with a sharp melodic structure.. The latter disorientates through writer’s block, being one of several examples of how personal the album is to Christoloudis. Whereas\u00a0‘Die Rich’\u00a0<\/em>stirs with a thick rhythm section. Along with ‘Dirty Bread,’<\/em> it lyrically dwells on later-life material possessions. These reflections stem from Andreas’ grandfather, who would buy paintings daily in Athens as a way of finding comfort in routine despite the looming presence of a military dictatorship.<\/p>\n