Imagine the amount of people out there right now, this second, clutching a Stooges record (any one will do, or ‘Funhouse’ if we have to choose) as if it’s the be all and end all. That’s all very well, nobody here’s suggesting Iggy and Co can or should have anything less than a profoundly heavy impact, still, even decades after their heyday, certainly not this man. Now try and think about the amount of bands who probably form as a direct result. Frightening thought eh? Burning Brides are one of those that got a deal. And, bluntly, maybe they should still be bottom of bill at the Shovel & Bladder. Not that they’re tragically lame, y’know, just that falling flat with an influence is probably worse than doing something bad with it.
The snarled “HEY, HEY, HEY, HEY!” barrage of ‘If I’m A Man’ is emotive enough and ‘Glass Slipper’ being the nippiest track on the record (clocking in at 1min 44seconds) makes the da-da-da-da-da-da-da-DA-DA repetition consumable, but by this stage you’ve got the point and are slowly losing the will to keep it. It’s a turgid variety theirs, a dry-roasted, wheat-free QOTSA, desert distortion. And no amount of off-verse gibbering by singer Dimitri Coats can keep it from blowing around in the dust.
Distracting backing vocals from bassist Melanie Campbell save it at points, like ‘Rainy Days’ and especially the almost-Riot-Grrl ‘See You Empty’, but all too occasionally. And too often (‘Blood On The Highway’ for instance) they sound like the Foo Fighters falling asleep, and the attentive had-eight-hours-sleep version has hardly been a thrill the majority of their life. ‘Elevator’ is a relatively fury-laden gust and ‘Plastic Empire’ is a bit of a goth take on Beck’s ‘Devil’s Haircut’. We mention these things as we want to like this, everything’s there, but it just falls flat. Then again, D4 have made a career of it, so we clearly know nothing.