JUDAS: You can't 'go electric' if you're already a cyborg

Pushing envelopes harder than Postman Pat

I'm going to briefly break from the Gaga moratorium imposed on this blog generally to comment on NME's initial reaction to 'Judas', which was released to the world in a shower of binary code and retweets this afternoon.

"[I]ts genius (and we are going to very tentatively use the word 'genius', in the sense that we believe pop music at its best is a genius medium) is that it really doesn't sound like Gaga in her comfort zone at all. [...] The breakdown has elements of the hardest techno and the boingiest dubstep, yet the chorus is so instantly pure-pop unforgettable that it just might – might – be even better than 'Bad Romance'."

I'm sorry to do this to you, but let's just focus on this line. To even try to come to terms with the 'phenomenon' that is Lady Gaga is beyond the scope of this blog and my own sanity. Suffice to say I was given a promo copy of The Fame in the antediluvian closing days of 2008 - I hated it, laughed at the lyrics, binned it and waited for her to go away.

I have never claimed to be a weathervane of pop.

But again: "The breakdown has elements of the hardest techno and the boingiest dubstep".

Here's the track. You can skip to the breakdown at 2m 40s if you wish.
Judas by gagadaily

Yup. So in the spirit of SHARING MUSIC AND LOVE, here's some boner-fide-ay hard techno for NME's Dan Martin to swivel on: To your publication's second trollworthy blog of the week, sir! I'm not going to link to either of them because Air France, the current banner ad on NME's site, would then have WON this little tit for tat.

Mote017 :: Marcel Fengler - Thwack by Mote-Evolver

Gaga moratorium now reinstalled.

The Horrors NME Awards Show @ Astoria, 16/02/2008

The Horrors + Crystal Castles + These New Puritans + Ulterior
NME Awards Show @ Astoria, 16^th February

Welcome to one of the few genuinely decent line-ups on the never-ending Wagnerian nightmare that is the NME Awards Shows, the most ridiculous, turgid, self-serving piece of marketing guff since, well, the NME Awards. Sadly, Ulterior’s performance will be omitted from this review because nobody will ever convince me that the phrase ‘doors open at 5.30pm’ displays any grasp of logical reasoning. This is a real shame, because Ulterior’s Suicide-shagging-William-Reid industrial noise-drone is far too exciting to miss. Four hours of adverts for Shockwaves, Skins and Joe Lean and the Jing Jang Jong (a pox on that band for eating into my word count) is more than any creature equipped with opposable thumbs can bear.

These New Puritans capitalise on what must be their biggest show to date, their sound becoming truly enormous propelled by those hip hop drums and nauseating low-frequency basslines. Jack Barnett has apparently come dressed as a Norman swan in chainmail tunic of plastic feathers, his bowl cut balanced precariously on a bird-like neck. A genuinely beguiling frontman, he at least seems to be having fun – Sophie sullenly pokes around on synths, scratching her neck and fighting to stay awake through their grimy, angular onslaught. It’s genius.

The Astoria ain’t quite right for Crystal Castles dirrrty club aesthetic, but that doesn’t stop the half-term rave kids’ sugar rush as they go batshit crazy for Alice’s winged-insect-trapped-in-a-bottle stage moves. Still, the deliciously warped malignancy of ‘Alice Practice’ and fizzing sodapop electro of ‘Air War’ stand out a mile above the samey bleeps of the non-singles, which doesn’t bode well for their upcoming album.

The Horrors return to headline the Astoria barely a year after their opening slot on the Rock’n’Roll Riot Tour, another steaming delight from the NME featuring The Dykeenies, The Maccabees and The Fratellis. Christ. Tighter and louder than ever before (both sartorially and musically), they’ve come a long way since then - this set almost makes the 45 minute mark, and Faris’ inter-song banter is becoming increasingly absurd: “sing for your supper,” he snarls into the mic, cracking himself up in the process. A handful of new songs are previewed, more experimental and less obviously derived from their garage rock bread and butter, and they certainly take themselves a lot less seriously than precocious fellow Southenders TNP or the notoriously snarky Crystal Castles.

At 9.30pm the whole shebang is brought to an untimely close. The crowd scratch their heads. It’s unsettling, but at least there’s time for a pint before the tube closes.

20/02/2008