Album of the month! No fucking contest! It’s Vince Clark’s (the non crap member of Erasure, remember that tour footage where he’d just sit there smoking cigarettes and moping, maybe pushing a button maybe once every five minutes? That’s punk rock!) high-art, high-camp disco/funk/collage project. So arch that it makes Noel Coward look like Noel Gallagher, so irresistibly catchy that it makes Mandy Moore look like Extreme Noise Terror.
You wanna know my two favorite (nonmusical) things about this record? Here: 1. There’s a “leaked” rumor going around that Tori Amos sang on it, so I go to one of those Tori message boards to gauge the results of those truly sensitive artsy souls and guess fucking what? They’re all trashing it! Ha, ha, fuck you bastards, we’re spilling glitter and champagne all over your precious copies of The Bell Jar! 2. Vince Clarke looks like one of the Festrunk Brothers from Saturday Night Live on the insert photo — butterfly collar nylon shirt, and bellbottom slacks with a gaudy checkerboard pattern, and a leather pimp hat. Stylin’!
Listen, okay, don’t let anyone know that I said it’s Vince Clark, as far as we’re concerned it’s Vince Fantastic, and there’s even a whole mythology built around this “legendary” band. Holy Count Five! I tested this record out at a Britpop night a few weeks back, and the indie kids hated it, but the true freaks danced like they never danced before. Highest recommendation! C’mon feel the noise!
Cleopatra Records, 13428 Maxella #251, Marina Del Rey , CA 90292; http://www.cleorecs.com