The closest definition or genre one can come up with for an album such as this is club rock. Clubbers love their music pummeling and upfront. Rockers love their music brutal and basic. What both audiences love is that very basic primal urge to just shed off all society’s inhibitions and dance. It is rare, in these days of ‘Pop Idol’ homogeny, to hear such a spiky and dynamic record, with such a personality all of its own.
This disc has quite clearly got both an agenda and an objective mind all of its own. And is all the better for it. Rather than being a collection of sounds or singles, this record has quite clearly been constructed as some kind of aural soundscape, to be slowly digested as all the sounds and flavours leak out into your system, poisoning and purifying you at the same time. Close your eyes when listening to it and memories and images will welcomingly mingle inside you.
It will be there for you in your hour of need. It is both comfort blanket and bedrock, just like all the best music should be. And it has a real blade of ice at its centre.