 |
|
Viki/Hair Police
Load
Maybe it's because I heard the song a good ten years after itscreation, but I still have a hard time getting my head around SonicYouth's "Death Valley 69." While I can appreciate the song for what itis, a blasted city-dweller's meditation on the desolate West, and allthe kitsch-laden horror stories coming with it, I've never been able toget as much from the listening experience. All the gratuitous filth andtheatrics just haven't mixed right with a real barrenness alsoprojected by the song. Luckily, there are people in Michigan today whoshoulder this dichotomy with ease. Dearborn's Viki plays afrighteningly arid brand of electro, fattened by an upbringing inAmerica's industrial waist, and packed with enough obtuse humor to keepyour eyes watery without quenching the scorched landscape of the music.She has an eerie, Lydia Lunch-ian delivery, twisting crazed yarns ondating, muscle-car culture, and thin lifestyle advice, over ricketybeats and the squelch of cheap electronics. The result is a more agileversion of the crawling beast conjured by Ann Arbor, Michigan's WolfEyes, with an added resilience to make it all the more menacing. Vikiconvinces me that she lives under the same crumbling off-ramps broughtto life in her songs, while cracking jokes in same breath. No smallfeat…and you can almost dance to it. Kentucky's Hair Police are a tadharder to pin down. On last year's Blow Out Your Bloodthey produced thoroughly abrasive, art-damaged rock, the sounds ofvocals or even drums rarely piercing massive walls of distortion andshattered electronic noise. This release sees them in an even greaterstate of shambles, the bursts of noise and effected screams displacedby longer, more spacious sections of rumbling static and destroyedguttural sounds. Even the song titles, like "Night Visitors" and "NotRaft, But Cage" reveal a more sinister, if less bombastic approach thanprevious efforts, bearing titles like "Do You Love Hop Hop?" and "MagicTool, A Big Hammer." If this is the new Americana, I'm sold.
Maybe it's because I heard the song a good ten years after itscreation, but I still have a hard time getting my head around SonicYouth's "Death Valley 69." While I can appreciate the song for what itis, a blasted city-dweller's meditation on the desolate West, and allthe kitsch-laden horror stories coming with it, I've never been able toget as much from the listening experience. All the gratuitous filth andtheatrics just haven't mixed right with a real barrenness alsoprojected by the song. Luckily, there are people in Michigan today whoshoulder this dichotomy with ease. Dearborn's Viki plays afrighteningly arid brand of electro, fattened by an upbringing inAmerica's industrial waist, and packed with enough obtuse humor to keepyour eyes watery without quenching the scorched landscape of the music.She has an eerie, Lydia Lunch-ian delivery, twisting crazed yarns ondating, muscle-car culture, and thin lifestyle advice, over ricketybeats and the squelch of cheap electronics. The result is a more agileversion of the crawling beast conjured by Ann Arbor, Michigan's WolfEyes, with an added resilience to make it all the more menacing. Vikiconvinces me that she lives under the same crumbling off-ramps broughtto life in her songs, while cracking jokes in same breath. No smallfeat…and you can almost dance to it. Kentucky's Hair Police are a tadharder to pin down. On last year's Blow Out Your Bloodthey produced thoroughly abrasive, art-damaged rock, the sounds ofvocals or even drums rarely piercing massive walls of distortion andshattered electronic noise. This release sees them in an even greaterstate of shambles, the bursts of noise and effected screams displacedby longer, more spacious sections of rumbling static and destroyedguttural sounds. Even the song titles, like "Night Visitors" and "NotRaft, But Cage" reveal a more sinister, if less bombastic approach thanprevious efforts, bearing titles like "Do You Love Hop Hop?" and "MagicTool, A Big Hammer." If this is the new Americana, I'm sold.- Viki - No Date
- Viki - No Work
- Hair Police - Not Raft, But Cage
