KID SHIRT

Saturday, July 30, 2005

MR. WILSON

Fucking hell, Circle Brophy, it was great to see you, man. Two fucking years...

And thanks for helping me christen (or shouldn't that be satanise?) my new Pocket-Universe circa 1972 HQ with a drunken evening of Wooden Wand, Anaksimandros, Lady Sov, Garm, Father Yod, John Cale, Tiger and, ermmm, Cockney Rebel.

Lordy, my head hurt this morning, but that dolphin lamp is ace.

MARK ONE

Cheers to Flinty for unexpectedly sorting me out yesterday with some Mark One whites (and a, er, Crispy Ambulance single!).

Plodder"(Contagious? MO 001) is a brooding, slow-motion shark-attack that for some strange reason involves a Russian choir. "Devil Man" initially revisits this theme, but then sensibly opts for a wooden-booted snare and tricksy percussion-fills that backtrack and almost manage to wrongfoot themselves. A huge square-wave synthsound approaches but somehow never quite arrives, looming over the proceedings like an enormous Japanese robot.

Holy heck! There’s breakbeats on “Get Busy” (A.R.M.Y. Army001), but they’re stiff-legged and militaristic…this music seems to almost mimic the UK’s own 'War on Terrorism' or whatever the Press are calling it this week, unconsciously mirroring the sense of unease that currently pervades parts of the UK. Initially, this made me think of armed-police wearing black body-armour, forensic specialists in plastic-suits, bomb-disposal robots, grainy film-stills sourced from cctv-cameras, but then a fat synth-line came in that had more wobble than a granny with water-retention and I found myself chuckling out-loud as the tune seemingly defused/deflated its own internal narrative tension. This track is the perfect antidote for those of you suffering from Terrorist Media Fatigue.

Over on the B-side: “Space-Hopper” is slap-happy, hyperactive Post-Electro with a bad case of ADD (and that’s at 33rpm!): the sound of malignant software going batshit in a run-down vircade….”Can’t Touch Dis” crawls towards you on insect legs, occasionally slowing and scuttling sideways, propelled by woozy, blurred synthlines, skittering hats and gunshot-sharp hand-claps. Deliriously Retro-Futuristic, it sounds like a lost track by The Forgemasters.