Melancholic grunge and visceral lyricism crash on 'J.U.M', the searing debut single from Brighton's CARNE that captures the ache of giving your full self to people who can't (or won't) see you.

Released 30 April via Silent Cult, 'J.U.M' marks an uncompromising first move from a band just four months into their existence. Recorded at Brighton Electric, mixed by Jag Jago (The Maccabees, Jamie T) and mastered by Kurt Martinez (Soft Play, Pixies), it's steeped in the mood and menace of 90s alt-rock. Think the splintered sincerity of Hole, early Garbage's catchy hooks and the slow-burning unease of To Bring You My Love-era PJ Harvey.

A single bass note rings out before Carmen Mellino's vocals cut through, saturated and distant like a call from a broken phone line. "J.U.M is the idea of not finding the right people for you in a certain environment [and] giving your true self to the wrong people," Carmen explains. It's like "feeling lost in a big city, you're ephemeral in an unshakeable place."

That restless, unrooted energy finds a visual echo in the DIY, black-and-white video released alongside the track. Shot vertically for urgency and intimacy, it follows Carmen through city streets at night, bellowing into a phonebooth receiver as distorted imagery flickers in and out, creating flashes of chaos and confusion. The effect is raw and arresting.

CARNE lean hard into the quiet-loud dynamics of classic grunge and draw from punk lyricism that favours feeling over polish, communicating disorientation and rage through blunt imagery and repetition. Urgent guitars climb then crack, drums hit with flared-up frustration and the track ends with a jolt - mid-thought, mid-breath, mid-scream. 

Since launching the project in January, the Brighton-based four-piece have wasted no time making noise - cutting their teeth at local shows and securing a slot at The Great Escape (14-17 May).

CARNE are:

Carmen Mellino (Vocals/Guitar)
Milo Hill (Guitar/Backing Vocals)
Emia Demir (Bass)
Joe McTaggart (Drums)