How does it compare to the artist's other releases
Not applicable
Value for Money
Advantages:
Sounds like a fun party in record form
Disadvantages:
My head says it's dumb, repetitive, cliched and lacking musical quality . . .
Recommend to potential buyers:
yes
Full review
When I think of Sheffield, I think of grim northern steel workers and the sounds of Cabaret Voltaire and Human League, which somehow seem to capture the mood perfectly.
Pink Grease don’t fit in at all, and threaten to change all that. They could loosely be called ‘electroclash’, with a blend of synths, guitar-driven dance music and shameless enthusiasm for disco and funk. In terms of reference points, think Electric Six, Scissor Sisters and Junior Senior - who scored the surprise hit of last summer with ‘Move Your Feet’.
The music business is such that Pink Grease are unlikely to secure a hit single themselves, but they certainly have some potential songs. Second track ‘Fever’ effortlessly melds good-time rock ‘n’ roll with disco abandon to produce an impressive statement of intent, proudly proclaiming “this is for real”. The recent single ‘The Pink G. R. Ease’ could be the bastard lovechild spawned from the loins of Scissor Sisters and Electric Six (particularly with it’s “Fire, fire” interjection).
Those are the best ‘party songs’, but even the ‘average’ album tracks keep the tempo up and the atmosphere going. Despite the album’s title, it’s not about typical real-life issues – mostly avoiding relationships, for example. It’s a typical ‘summer holiday’ kind of record, with parties, fun, some sex and an absence of the daily grind. Even songs that seem like filler (such as ‘Wind Up Bird’) do have a certain infectiousness to them, despite being rather one-dimensional. If it’s all a bit samey, that’s not too bad so long as it’s fun.
The band aren’t quite to be dismissed as just a silly novelty act though. ‘Peaches’ offers a respite that’s surprisingly sensitive. The one time the tempo really drops, for reflection seemingly about the end of a relationship – yet somehow it doesn’t jar, even in the middle of the album.
Just when you thought things were about to get serious, ‘The Nasty Song’ kicks with one of the rockier tracks. ‘Superfool’ ends with the sounds of simulated sex, while the following ‘Party Live’ is a downright in-the-gutter sleazy number.
Admittedly some clichéd moments go with the territory. ‘Party Live’ lives up to its name, but features introduction of “drums, synthesiser” over the music (remember Athlete’s “chorus”?) It’s as cringe-worthy as it might sound, honest – I think they can be excused as examples of the self-referential irony that goes with this genre. Besides, the band sound like they’re having such fun you take it with a cheesy grin and carry on.
The lyrics are hardly poetry either, as you’d expect. Aside from repetitive choruses and crazy shout-outs (“I want to see you clap your hands”) it has its moments of humour if you keep a tongue firmly in your in cheek – “I want to f*cking die for you/ I want to die f*cking you” (‘The Nasty Show’). Incidentally, before I give the wrong impression, although there’s a sleaziness about some songs that’s pretty much the only bad language – apart perhaps from a “mother-funkster” later on…
This isn’t the kind of album you can analyse. When you look at the parts it’s mostly bad lyrics, clichés and mish-mash of genres and average musicianship. I guess – like technically inept old-school punk records – that it’s the overall effect that matters. I mean, critics briefly went crazy over Fischerspooner, who had much less substance behind their outlandish style.
Unfortunately this album doesn’t really fit into any of the pigeonholes of ‘dance’, ‘rock’ or ‘pop’, which is probably why it will struggle to find a large audience. Nonetheless similar artists have scored big, even if only novelty hits, and it’s reassuring to know a British band can pull this style off. It probably won’t win over new fans, but for those that enjoy this style of music, it’s a good album.
Only £6.99 on Amazon, so if you like parties, and the sound of what I’ve described, give it a go for 40 minutes of hedonistic escapism.
