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Tracklisting:
| A1 | Hand To Mouth | |
| Featuring - Mattin , Best* | ||
| A2 | Cockpit | |
| Featuring - Mattin , Best* | ||
| A3 | Crowd Pleaser | |
| Featuring - Mattin , Best* | ||
| A4 | Parking Lot | |
| Featuring - Mundy* , Mattin , Best* | ||
| B | Oily Possibilities | |
| Featuring - Mundy* , Mattin , Best* | ||
I'm in a minority, and
even though I have often been told that I'm wrong, I consider Power
Electronics to be something of a spent force which should have been
left in a shallow roadside ditch some miles back. The only reliables
are the long-termers, such Asp, Balisteri, Dando and Solotroff, who,
like Bruce Lee before them, offer glimmers of hope to undisciplined
imitators masquerading as badboys, who pull their bedroom mirror
moves whilst securely decked out in military surplus, fan-boy
t-shirts and topped with the obligatory peaked black cap. As sweeping
generalisations go, it would seem that the ranks of these vanilla
dullards are constantly being expanded by an influx of players
recruited from the straight-jacketed ranks of the Hardcore and Metal
circuses, where the flock mentality is the unwritten law, and
imposing their one-size-fits-all scene regulations a hobby, It's this
safety-in-numbers approach and scene molding that snuffs out unique,
individual voice, miring us in a pit of the same old tired clichés
and opinions. I want my PE to be delivered as a genuine insight into
a particular artist's mindset, not by somebody with identification
issues flaunting his supposedly 'private' 'obsessions' (which are,
amazingly, the exact same as everybody else's on his mailing list)
in front of his little playmates, unsure, unable or unwilling to
stand on his own two feet, And I want some cold distance to the
subject, coupled with a bit of vague mystery, both of which seem to
be lacking from today's team-players. That's why the individual
indiscretions of, say, George Michael are far more invigorating and
interesting than the tedious clichés of the rock 'n' roll lifestyle
exhibited by Montly Crue, doing exactly what they're expected to do
in that position they hold.
It's unique, peculiar traits that
separate the driven from the masses, fuelling a need that pushes the
artist to do what he has to do without any concerns for recognition,
let alone acceptance. Nobody in PE should be looking to bond, and
nobody should be serious about asking others what their next move
should be. Which piece of art is actually a genuine reflection of the
artist is tough to pin down, and let's face it, 'authenticity' has
always been the greatest deceiver in rock music, but still,
contemporary PE, with its sad parody of needy attention-seeking
scenesters stretches tolerance levels. Mine, anyway.
These
dismal trollops will continue with their play-ground bravado, pushing
and shoving each other around at shows, rallying their internet
warrior buddies, naked and exposed with full decks dealt, at least
until the big boys, watching from a distance, finally step out from
behind the bikesheds and demand that the kids hand over their
pocket-money. With Crowd Pleaser, that demand is finally
made.
It would have been far too easy for somebody as highly
regarded within PE's hierarchy as Philip Best to have bandied these
recordings around any number of safehouse labels and demand his own
terms, but it's a testament to the project's individuality and belief
in self that the took the hard option oversaw the whole production on
his own. It's given aid along the way from Mattin (who had to leave
his philosophy books behind) and long-terms accomplice Gary Mundy, as
well as the absolute craftsmanship of Rashad Becker during the
mastering stage, which makes the whole album fucking bullet-proof.
They lyrical onslaught never lets up from the off, and is
snarled out with a rapid-fire intensity. A constant stream of
polemic, surging forward, switching from bitter to puzzled, but
always lacking any trace of empathy whilst operating without a
safety-net of buzzwords. The muzzled restraint which highlighted his
work with the two most intriguing tracks on Whitehouse's Asceticist
2006 Album, and which every had expected for the No Fun
Productions LP (Nobody's Ugly), is blown apart and the results
are delivered with the most effective, fractures viciousness as
record has hurled forth in a long time.
Side Two allows the
librarian and wordsmith to stand aside and lets the musicians
through. Like Nobody's Ugly, this features another highly
precise instrumental construction which, whilst having none of the
jagged shards strewn across it like the outbursts on the first side,
builds on wailing tones and hits like a sneak-attacks from the SAS,
in and out within a few minutes, Minimum fuss, maximum impact.
Steve
Underwood
I was extremely pleased to receive this LP in the mail, as it was a highly anticipated release for me, and even after the first few spins, I would have objectively been able to say that I was blown away by it. As Whitehouse has shifted to more avant-garde territories, going full-circle, I suppose, back to where that band began, Philip Best has zeroed in on the essence of – yes, I will use the tainted term – power-electronics. From the moment the needle hits the opening groove, the vocals on this album are a vital distillation of the type of rapid-fire, venomous discharge of Best's that I so enjoy, and they are combined with a raw and disorienting electronic soundscape – one that is maybe less-obviously-digital, compared to what I might have expected, particularly after playing the two shows with him last summer. But in retrospect, maybe "seeing" a laptop made me a "hear" a laptop? Maybe it was that the focus was on the sound when it came to the previous LP, "Nobody’s Ugly" (2007, No Fun Productions). Regardless, the laptop debate is a moot point when dealing with Consumer Electronics, as the “gear” is by no means the focus of a performance, and neither is it an issue with these songs. It is certainly not clear who is doing what on the album; both Gary Mundy (Ramleh, etc.) and Mattin are credited alongside Best as performers, but it is apparent that there is a lot of information in the sound. When the electronics are at their thickest, grayest point on the song “Oily Possibilities,” metallic chiming and scraping sounds rise clearly and gently through the mix to keep the listener focused, even without the need for vocals. I appreciate that the overall intensity of the performance - often rare on a studio recording versus the live setting - along with the succinctness of the album - never allows for even a slight lapse of attention. I also appreciated the inclusion of a lyric booklet – a libretto, more or less – even though the vocals are crystal clear. It is still nice to be able to go back and follow the word-play; a lyric from one song is the title of another; references surface to other recordings or releases. This sort of feature has always been a pleasurable element of Whitehouse records, Peter Sotos’ books, etc. The album’s production values are brilliant, and they are only enhanced by the audiophile-quality 180-gram vinyl pressing, and the excellent mastering job by Rashad Becker.
discography
w.m.o/record label
desetxea net label
www.mattin.org
