Love and Hate...

DEATH FROM ABOVE 1979: Romantic rights

Yes, yes; a thousand times yes. This has to be the sexiest darn rock and roll song I've heard in ages. Think along the lines of Foo Fighter's "Low" or something by Queens of the Stone Age. Now add one hundred percent proof sleaze, a whole lot of trash and charisma, a couple of hardworking low-fi be-bearded Canadians et voila, you have the band that everyone is talking about, not least because men, women and beasts everywhere no doubt want to snuggle with them after hearing this. At least, I do.
Because they could genuinely be the answer to my musical prayers. A full- blown assault on every sensory organ, despite having a name like a tongue twister, Death From Above 1979 are something definitely too cool to be very commercial but commercial enough to be accessible to the wider audience they deserve. Their noisy antics have the power to drag their listeners in by the scruff of the neck, shake them violently for a bit (or at least whip them as they shimmy) and top it all off with a cheeky smack on the backside and still strangely leave each and every one begging for more. I know because I have been playing this CD every day since I got it. In fact, the word "addicted" springs to mind.
Death From Above are touring the UK in February, 2005.

UNIT: Untied and United Vol. 1

I have reserved a special word for bands like this and that word is abysmal. Me and this CD did not get off to a good start because it was 37 tracks long. And then it turned out that barely any of these tracks were any good. And what's worse is that each one sounded pretty much the same. Still, I should at least be grateful that they favour the "short is sweet" approach. I am being deadly serious when I say music like this should have a health warning. I had to bathe immediately after hearing it.
I mean, why bother? Take "For Sarah Strange": punk rock sung in a thick Scottish accent. And then the other Joy Division-esque renditions and tributes to The Smiths sound like they are being shouted by a Bristol lad, neither of which are particularly easy on the ear. Not that I am accent-a-phobic; I'm just nitpicking because, with this lot, it's dead easy. Plus I hate Joy Division and The Smiths. In short, apart from the odd relished instrumental, listening to Unit is like listening to the two guys from "Little Britain" in a pop group. But certainly not as funny. I made it to track 13. Any advances on that, please let me know.

Anna C