06 August, 2011

Recent Love (Fuck All This Shit Edition)

Pink City, Designing Women
I've been in a shitty mood all week. Between idiot customers and the incessant chirp of the office phone alerting me to idiot customers-to-be, the heat and the nausea I've been suffering all week, I've got to tell you, I don't know if I'm up for writing a review. I just want to go catch a matinée showing of the new Planet of the Apes movie.
But I'll write this up. For the band. And for you, as well, mon petit illiterati, because you can't sleep on this one. You can't.
Designing Women kicks off with the last single, "Wrung" and moves into the proper album version of "The Operator", a strikingly different version from the one that appeared as the B-side to the first single "Pitcher". It still creeps along at a snail's pace but whereas the "dance mix" was an almost sexy little thing that I could see used in some movie scene with some A-list starlet "taking a risk" and going for partial frontal nudity with overly bright and bold colors in the background (neon lights for a strip club, candles and silk for the lair of a snake god or whatever), the proper album version is a twenty five foot golem marching to the city, prepared to take out sky scrapers and car dealerships, clearly pissed off that society has decided to blemish the otherwise unadulterated countryside with such ugly and soul destroying clusters as cities.
I told you it was a shitty week.
"Condescend"? Another one in the way of sexy bass lines. To me, it's the sound of planning. Somebody definitely has a grudge against somebody else and has some ideas... They're just having trouble picking out the best one. "Comes Apart" features a vocal that sounds like some sort of monster emitting a birth cry and one of the best staccato guitar and bass lines since Scratch Acid forty eight seconds in. As I listen all the way through, one section easily slides into the next and by the end I'm listening to a completely different song. That's kind of my move but since I never patented it, I guess I'll just have to let them use it. Damnit.
"Acceptability for Behaviors" is a pretty nice little segue from side A to side B featuring a noise collage and guitar feedback laid over a clip of an evangelical sermon. "Family Therapy" is another drumless number with Mr. Martin reciting a chant over a hard panned back and forth on the guitars (courtesy of Mr. Healy) that reminds me of the guitar work on some of the Creeping Nobodies records.
"Pitcher" kicks the shit out of everything ever in the whole world ever in the history of ever. It even kicks the shit out of the earlier version of itself and I like that version, too. This one is faster, meaner, louder... if you're going to a baseball bat fight, this is the song you listen to while getting ready. Should one of these guys cross the Atlantic and get together with the other, don't go to their show because they'll play this song and you'll get caught in the mosh pit and your pussy ass will get trampled to death like that one time the Who played in Cincinatti. For your own personal safety, stay home. Watch the YouTube videos that get uploaded in a week. This song will... fuck.
After that we get "Domestica" which brings to mind Junkyard-era Birthday Party. And "Endless Night"? Son, this is the song that goes on your fuck-jams 2011 mix tape. Seriously. Go listen to that song right now and tell me you can't fuck to it and I'll call you a liar. To your face, even. However, if I may have a gripe, once the guitar, bass, and vocal kick in, the kick drum kind of, OK, really disappears. This does not detract from the fucktoability of this song, but I noticed that the kick drum disappeared.
"Happy Days" closes out the record like a drug come-down. The guitar disappears altogether roughly a third of the way through the song and stays gone as the song continues on its relaxed little lurch-and-swoon. It ends on a dreamy note and there's really no other way this record could have ended. If Pink City had ended it any other way, they would've fucked it up.
So, here's what you're going to do to show them that you appreciate them not fucking up their record: You're going to listen to it. You're going to listen to it and you're going to like it and you're even going to drop US$6 on it because that's how much you appreciate when a good band makes the correct aesthetic decisions. Do it.
Me? I'm going to catch the matinée in about forty five minutes. Don't call me. My phone will muted.

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