Miss Black America - Dot Dot Dot
Instead of just trying to give Tony Blair a bloody nose,
Miss Black America return with a left-left-left combo to collectively
smash any thought
of 21st century sitting still. As nimble as Wayne Rooney and thrice
as pissed off, their rage is less articulated than previously, and I've
chance as working out what Seymour is spitting as on a Dizzee Rascal
record switched to 101rpm, but if rock and roll is about nothing less
seemingly directionless fury, thank god it isn't, then this would be
The Holy Bible.
To me at least, it seems strange that a record can both
dictate absolute anger AND such extreme deliberating vacuousness in
a way that leaves me in such a complete understanding of where they
are trying to go. Because screaming anything (in this case "you
isolate yourself") over the most primal OTT punk rock rhythm they
could manage, in 2005, represents something more than having the angry
gene. It seems Miss Black America have an eternal fear of becoming irrelevant,
and no amount of (band or trouser) splits, label fuck ups or music industry
ignorance can silence anyone who vents each lyric or snare pound or
guitar riff with such hyperbolic ferocity.
This isn't to say that I like "Dot Dot Dot" as a song. The
music seems too contrived for singer Seymour's genuine emotional rant,
like anthrax and drinking water, and the endless Slash solos reek of
musical semen, BUT you have to admire that everyone's inner masochist
take comfort from what is nothing less than an almighty Cassius Clay
musical uppercut. You have to admire that the bass is so bouncy it’s
probably a surgically enhanced 36D. And you have to admire the continued
dedication of a band who have been so seriously fucked up and survived.
And that triumph alone is worth infinitely more than the merits of any
Holden Caulfield wouldn't like it, but I wish them "GOOD LUCK".
Tom, Heavy Discipline Fanzine