Lullabye Arkestra is Kat Taylor-Small and Justin Small. Brought together by love, they are bound by and to the music. It’s music by lovers, for fighters. When Kat picks up her bass and Justin gets behind the drums, the result is dirty, swaggering rock ‘n’ roll. The result is beautiful. The result is Threats/Worship. Formed in 2001, Lullabye Arkestra has always had the heart, soul and sweat of Kat and Justin at its core. While past incarnations have found up to a dozen people adding to the sound, today the Arkestra is stripped down, back to the core. This is a duo who knows when to scream, when to pummel, and, at the perfect moment, when to let the vulnerabilities show.The paradox of the band’s name is intrinsic to the songs they sing. They scream and wail, but just when you think the onslaught is relentless, they turn on a dime and let Kat’s sweet voice take over. Or Justin let’s loose with a string of “Baby, baby, baby…” The centre only seems softer because of the hardness that protects it. After self-releasing a CDR-EP, Lullabye Arkestra’s first official album, Ampgrave (2006), was released on Constellation Records. Since then, they’ve torn up stages in North America and Europe, playing gigs with bands as diverse as Bison B.C., Blood Ceremony, Fucked Up, Plus/Minus and Monotonix. Now, after signing to VICE Records, they are unveiling their latest album, Threats/Worship. The first chords are heavy, almost foreboding. It’s an introduction, but only a welcome for those willing to risk entrance. The drums kick in and the tension eases, but only slightly. Lullabye Arkestra is asking – no, insisting – that you “Get Nervous”. The first voice you hear is that of drummer Justin Small. It is the voice of someone who loves rock ‘n’ roll and who is going to make you love rock ‘n’ roll, too. He drums like a guy who is bouncing off his seat, driven to just get up, jump into the crowd and dance. This is not music for the inhibited. Or maybe, it’s the perfect soundtrack to finally letting go of whatever was holding you back in the first place. When Kat Taylor-Small screams, it’s genuinely bone-chilling. Then, she punctuates her wail with a bass line that is absolutely gut-rumbling, just to make sure you don’t miss the point. The effect is stunning and life-affirming, even as, or maybe because, it’s also a little scary. And therein lies the beauty of Lullabye Arkestra. There’s hope amongst the pain. There’s love and truth and passion and warmth; there’s life. The wolves may come, but they’re nothing insurmountable. So, even when the music is at it’s heaviest and seemingly darkest, it’s the light that makes the Arkestra transcendent. Threats. Worship. Threats/Worship.