The songs we can't escape
What does this sensuous bit of pitch-shifting, androgynous IDM have to do with its namesake? As far as I can tell, not a damned thing.
Felipe—who appears to be way better at drumming than any other musical endeavor—goes the Valium-coma luau route here, making this the only No Fun Demo track I can sit through without grinding my teeth into powder. Oh, that blasted Ariel Pink: well on his way to sliming indie-rock for a new generation.
This, I suppose, is their "Kokomo." Does growing up mean having no sustainable career path and re-inventing your long-forgotten boy band as an acronym? I don't know. These dudes are in a bind: Lyrics like "Do you remember?/I'll never forget/Touching your body, all soaking wet/The bottle was cool, the feeling was hot/Kissin' on ya while the ocean rocked" are a tad too risqué for the Cheetah Girls set yet too puerile/escapist for stressed-out moms who begged their 'rents for NKOTB tickets way back when "The Right Stuff" was the pre-90210 middle-school jam.
Were it not for Mylene Pires's bewitching vocal presence, Telepathique would be the go-to techno/house/whatever alternative for directors shooting those expository spy-flick nightclub scenes where something dangerous is about to happen; you know, the dancers are writhing and bathed in red light and someone's being chased through the crowd or whatever. I feel like an ass when I say stuff like this, but it's true.
"The Grown Up"
Jacking a bunch of Seinfeld sound bites to pad your underground mixtape is a neat way to draw attention, but what good is it if they overshadow your sub-par (substandard at best) rhyming skills?
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