When young kids with expensive instruments sign up to expectorate raw noise onto digital tape are forced into a nebulous cocoon of coke stomached prostitutes and stretched Humvees, it is a rarity sight to witness the spectacular metamorphosis of those same wild-eyed naves as they victoriously emerge as glorious musicians, bringing even the most evil eye to tears. On June 19, Art Brut will take such a flight when Downtown releases It's A Bit Complicated, which is seriously the absolute biggest deal of your life. Did the sarcasm read as well as I wanted? I mean seriously.
Formed in 2003, the same year they self released their obscure Brutlegs, the quintet from parts Deptford, parts Bournemouth England, succumbed to a wallop of luck when fate in the form of an unknown journalist stuffed one of the band's MP3s down Geoff Travis' trousers, provoking him release "Formed A Band" on his legendary Rough Trade imprint. Fierce Panda pressed their first EP Brutlegs 04 and once Pippettes producer John Fortis was locked, proceeded to knocked out Bang Bang Rock and Roll in May 05.
In those two bleared years, Art Brut amused stateside hipsters at major US festivals such as Coachella and Bitchpork, attracting legions of self-deprecating fiascos and art school dementos, whose appetite for anti-rock delicacies soaked in British sass, appears to be overwhelming.
Singer Eddie Argos, whose daft buffoonery provides a sprinkle of saccharine for his often sour lyrics, continues to rant his pants off on this fresh wax platter, while the wacky demeanor of the entire clique seems to have matured, like an alcoholic graduating from tap beer to imported Scotch.
"Pump Up The Volume," far removed from the Happy Harry Hard-on days when Christian Slater was something of a star, is a choppy mix of keys and guitars, that pushed the envelope of presumptuousness so far that the cheeky lads give themselves a self inflicted paper cut while name checking past lyrics 'we just kissed, and that's about it.'
"Direct Hit" has all sorts of monster appeal for the muscle head hunks and street walking skirts. Even the school librarian will obey the order to "get on the dance floor" and shake some silent ass during this blistering smash.
"People In Love" is another retaliatory ballad of scorned lover Argos', while the lyrics 'I don't know what I'm doing, but it feels like success,' are the repeating chorus of "I Will Survive."
Rock music needs the haphazard hellions like planet Earth needs a peace treaty. Their rococo spirit and flamboyant flare gives the body, mind, and loins a perverse thrill. But like all sexually charged crushes, a stable relationship, glued with a superhuman epoxy, capable of lasting past future millenniums, is definitely not what I am looking for when I tangle with Art Brut. I want these untamed rascals to terrorize my insides with electrifying bursts of winsome satisfaction, but I refuse to bring them home to meet the family for a Sunday evening meal.
"Nag Nag Nag Nag"