In some ways this reminds of the rather foppish and verbose Blue Aeroplanes. Smart-arse lead singer slashing through all manner of small-town domestic absurdities with his threshing rapier wit, a swirl of electric guitars swirling around in its wake and a misanthropy as smug and self-satisfying as a raw chocolate face pack. Throw in a bit of Elastica, some mid-nineties Britpop, a handful of movie references, various outtakes from Blur’s ‘Park Life’, shitloads of pub banter and the rambling poetics of demi-gobs like Kevin Rowland and Bob’s yer uncle: the new album from the joyfully marginalized ‘art band’, Art Brut. Here we have everything from arguments about the Beatles and the Stones, DC Comics, chocolate milk, tea, coffee, buses, trains and loads of other ‘very ordinary stuff’. And whilst one can only assume there must be some terrifically profound statement being made about Post-Capitalist Britain, the sheer quantity of words and images tumbling out of the lead-singer’s mouth makes it almost impossible to identify, switching as it does between cut n paste expressions and knee-jerk observation.
Tracks like ‘The Passenger’ and ‘What A Rush’ leap around with the jolliest of intentions and ‘Summer Job’ scribbles the kind of quirky riffs that makes Coxon so marvellously cheeky, but it lacks the wit and charm of Cocker and the Snake-Hips of the Ferdinands. Would have made a tasty mini-album. a good starter, but it’s just so chuffin’ samey it hurts.
‘I fought the floor and the floor won’.
You’ve had your fun. Now you and your student overdraft can just f*ck off.
ART BRUT VS SATAN – ART BRUT review by Crud Magazine. Released 20.04.09