Cogs are designed with extruding teeth and matching inlets
for traction. The farther the distance between the vertex
and apex, the better grip you’ll get. But let the teeth wear
down, and there’s no friction, it’s just a wheel. Mclusky
vary the dynamics so that when the gear engages, the torque
rips the fucking axle right out. Mclusky Do Dallas brings
together stellar bass playing, precision drum smashing and
explosive spewing of schizophrenic lyrics. Clean production
by Mr. Albini and a smart sense of humor also count
t’wards the creation of a nearly perfect record. A
few uneventful Garbage guitar solos and very slight
case of repetition mar the experience. Early reports indicate
it will increase self-esteem and put pep in your step.
The whole approach brings back the summer of ’94 when bands
like Cop Shoot Cop were infiltrating the schlock on
the radio. “Lightsabre Cocksucking Blues” entertains a bombastic
drive similar to Babes In Toyland’s “Sweet 69.” Singer
Andy Falkous spits out his idiot-savant vocals between
bouts of furious guitar scrubbing. Our boy must have some
experience seeing as his delivery is so all-fired fascinating.
He exhibits more psychosis on “No New Wave No Fun,” which
has a three-day growth of fuzz on it. Mat Harding
lays down a steady and stepped up surf beat during the sermonizing.
“Collagen Rock” introduces the derailing guitar work that
finishes with more satisfying string jerking. The non sequitur
lyrics One of those bands got legs like yours/and one of
them got the stare come across like Birthday Party
screaming. Another go-nowhere guitar line seeps through on
“What We’ve Learned” like a neon orange tie with a tuxedo.
Jon Chapple plunks out wooly mammoth bass tones and
proves he’s no vocal slouch himself. After the incomprehensible
drumming on “Dethink To Survive,” the slowdown of “Fuck This
Band” stands out all the more. The gentleness of the music
is countered by the hilariously course lyrics, fuck this
band yeah, fuck their holes/ but if they split up/ you’re
responsible. This is delivered as straight-faced as any
shaggy Brit-sap band out there.
The puffed up bravado on “To Hell With Good Intentions” is
a cock-rock send up that still gets a head bang out of you.
Falkous’ incessant encouragement “sing it” envisions
the leather clad senior citizen of your choosing. I’ll take
Halford, please ask again if I am ready to rock.
The incoherent rant “Clique Application Form” rivals
The Fall. “The World Loves Us…” comes in with aggressively
farty bass joined with pleasant taunting guitar. Insane falsetto
vocals mimic the guitar as a super-special bonus. Brutal
drums and exasperated vocals build in intensity ‘til the flip
gets switched and all hell boils over. Musically unassuming,
“Alan Is A Cowboy Killer” brings an indie sound with twisted
Trojan Horse message. A bit like Unrest or Wedding
Present gone agro. “Gareth Brown Says” contains only the
second Michael Cain reference I’ve heard in song.
Chapple takes another turn of the mic on the mantric “Chases.”
For some reason, his early era Wire vocals aren’t nearly
as prominent. “Whodoyouknow” wraps up with all the bells.
Swift fuzzed out vocals, surfy harmonies, false endings, the
professor and the rest.
I like to think this is what The Flaming Lips would
have become if they had proceeded down the path of destruction.
Instead they chose hyper-intellectual pretension. On a scale
of candy-related deaths: one being lik-m-stik inhalation,
and ten being almond roca bludgeoning; Mclusky Do Dallas
receives the rare nine and a half – stabbed with a malomar.
— Ewan Wadharmi
- Lightsabre Cocksucking Blues
- No New Wave No Fun
- Collagen Rock
- What We’ve Learned
- Day Of The Dead Ringers
- Dethink To Survive
- Fuck This Band
- To Hell With Good Intentions
- Clique Application Form
- The World Loves Us And Is Our Bitch
- Alan Is A Cowboy Killer
- Gareth Brown Says
in the webboard
e-mail the chief
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