Saturday, 12 July 2008

Dancing in the Dark vs Stuck on Repeat. Ringside seats.

Martin Creed's Work No. 270: "The Light's Off"





...is anyone else hearing seals barking and chainsaws?

I'm left a little dazed after the six minutes of aural assault, the silhouette of a flickering lightbulb in a dark warehouse a harsh retinal sear. Like looking at the sun too long. PTP, my bureau deskmate, enjoys it; he likes the heavy stuff. The first time he played it to me, he had a nosebleed. As his pupils dilated and he savoured the bright red blood dripping from his upper lip, it seemed that 'Dancing in the Dark' had reached a physical state of being. It's inaccessible and uncompromising; raw, rasping sound strapped to a minimal skeleton. There's no melody, and except for the nasal singing interludes, no change. It feels a little like concept music, as in you're welcome to hate on it; but that's equivalent to looking at the floor in the face of it's brutal aesthetic stare. You're just a pussy. I wouldn't be surprised if it was the soundtrack to Thursday night dogfighting in disused parking lots.
Well, whether it transcends just being noise is debatable. Whether it transcends just being shit...


Little Boots - Stuck on Repeat (Fake Blood Remix)


As points of comparison go, it's weak but 'Dancing in the Dark' could easily have been called 'Stuck on Repeat'. And the opening has a slight chainsaw vibe... Except the sexy Little Boots / Fake Blood combo have spawned an absolute behemoth. It's a heavyweight, sculpted and light on it's feet. In fact, this track is Ali, and it lays a fat roundhouse to the meaty cheek of Proxy's club bouncer. Then, still nimble, climbs the ropes, takes the belt, does the splits and shimmies on down to the disco. Distorted vocals, dirty driving synth and serious drops combine with an airy layer of piano and a monk-like breathy chant. Drop it in a big night anywhere and reap, brother, the adulation it deserves.

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