Sunday, April 23, 2006

Number Four With A Bullitt - Rory Storm


It did not take a genius to predict it - if you had heard the material in question, you would've said the same - but the new Rory Storm album 'Fuck the Memescape' has taken over the Dunedin airwaves. Evidence here (for this week anyway). Why is this? How could this happen? Because this album fucking ROCKS.

It's stupidly simple. When you hear a record, it either rocks or it does not. There is an in-between, but really, who gives a fuck. It's gotta ROCK. I love how 'Fuck The Memescape' starts - the big opening electro beats are so cheesy, so dodgy; I've observed dropped jaws on many faces, including my own, when the bip-bop starts up. But hang on because in 3 minutes time Dr Storm's going to have you in the palm of his hand. It's so insanely catchy, so mesmerizingly static; the time-warps-per-second ratio is staggering. Once you get to the track that's blasted through to number four on the Radio 1 charts, 'Valerie Solanis Space Station' (track three) you will be as gripped by the vortextual pull of these electronic beat paddocks and massive electric guitar riffs as a bunch of zoned-up Russkies once were by the Sol-Anus.

The connections with his previous, and gaining-in-legend album 'We Are Superior Beings' are remarkably few. Think of that albums' 'No Full Attempt On Lightening Robot'; but with vocals (and lyrics!)... and just a general all-over songliness. The main connection is in the precision with which it's all put together, and the superstrings of guitar arcing like electric meltdown. Not sure who I'd compare it to in the modern pantheon, but I would like to call attention to the occasional resemblances, via the use of numbing repetition; and a healthy mixing of the vivid and the vague, to the early Fall. And anyone knows that early Fall is as good as it gets.

Rory's threatened a recorded version of his acoustic live show for the next record - an experience which resembles a slowed-down rendition of Palace Music's 'Arise Therefore' album as sung by Ian Curtis, but less life-affirming - so until that brain-batterer comes down the tube you better get yer kicks while you can. This is an outstanding rock'n'roll record in any arena - maybe even, g_d forbid, a stadium arena. It's just got it. And it's coming to you from an improv/weirdo label at the bottom of the world. I dare you to argue with the logic in that.

4 Comments:

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