DEPARTMENTS: Reviews by DYLAN CULHANE (DC), Jon Monsoon (JM)
CD REVIEWS THE VIRGINS
The Virgins
EMPIRE OF THE SUN
Walking on a Dream
In an era where quirky electro acts literally fall from the sky, Australia’s Empire of the Sun packs a bit more authenticity than most (despite looking like the karaoke twins at an ‘80s Adam and The Ants revival gig). By this I mean that their music is clever without being dorky or having to resort to gimmicks to sell downloads. Luke Steele (of concept band The Sleepy Jackson) and partner in synth Nick Littlemore (of dance band Pnau) have found in one another’s company a rare formula for making sweet tracks that appeal to the right senses, at the right times. They know how to do cool without over-doing it and make being weird seem almost normal, whilst some tight production takes care of the niggly bits that might otherwise be cause for complaint. (JM)
When people sit around discussing New York rock bands in ten years time, they will make mention of (amongst others) bands like Kiss, Velvet Underground, New York Dolls, The Strokes, Agnostic Front, The Rapture, and Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Few, if any, will remember this band. Probably best known for their happy garage single ‘One Week of Danger’ (and then only because it appeared on U.S. teen TV series Gossip Girl), The Virgins have managed a full album of mostly banal pop ditties which are about as cutting edge as a stale jam doughnut. If you buy into the pop-rock shlock of other lame-o bands like Maroon 5 then you might find this disposable aural malady somewhat agreeable. I’m not convinced. (JM)
WHITE LIES
To Lose My Life
THE PRODIGY
Invaders Must Die
Ten years ago, The Prodigy was the most important band on the planet. Five years ago, not so much. In 2009, they probably don’t give a fuck anymore if you think they’re any good – they know they are, and that’s all that really matters. Invaders Must Die, the Prodg’s fifth studio album over seventeen years is probably the best thing they’ve ever done. It’s all back to the rave with sounds and methods that started the fire all those years ago. Fans of old will revel in the nostalgia trip while newcomers will surely marvel at the cheek of it all. As Keith Flint explained to me over the phone just the other day: “It’s all about chucking it out on stage, mate, that’s what we do best…why wouldn’t we want to make music that allows us to do that?” Why not indeed. Long live The Prodigy. (JM) 82
one small seed
Representing what could possibly be called the new face of Goth, the West Londoners (formerly Fear of Flying) offer some stark and not altogether happy reflections on life, love and – predictably – death (it’s even the opening song title!). Their debut album will have many clotheared coffin kids wanting to compare them to other smile dodgers like Joy Division, Interpol and even Alphaville, which is not such a bad thing. Comparisons aside, frontman Harry McVeigh offers the endorphin-deprived listener ten darkly polished synth rock songs that veritably shine with melancholic longing and a pervading sense of loss that makes for the prefect break-up album. Indie rock’s last hope? I’ll have to get back to you on that one… (JM)