My Disco - Cancer

Belvedere Jehosophat - Monday, 19 March 2007 - Print Version

Squeezing eight songs into a slender 24-minutes, My Disco's Cancer is a jarring, incredibly noisy record that marries mechanical, angular guitars with a superbly tight rhythm section.

My Disco sound like Shellac, and judging by the "Recorded and mixed in analogue..." on the back of the record, it would seem that they also share similar aesthetics, perhaps even politics. Whichever way (and not making any mention of the fact that they are most probably named after a Big Black song) My Disco do sound like they have borrowed, at the very least, a little of Albini and co.'s taste for clinically precise music. This, I mention, not as a criticism, but rather to give you an idea of the type of sound My Disco have cultivated. Sure, there are musical cues, there is reminiscence, but My Disco are their own band, and, accordingly, they've written a pretty decent batch of songs and collected them into a pretty decent record.

The lyrics - or, rather, the structure of the lyrics - reminds me of The Underclass-era Rudimentary Peni: abstract, and equally grim, especially if one keeps the record's title in mind whilst listening. I don't rightly know whether this is a concept album à la My Chemical Romance or whether, in fact, the lyrics are an honest exploration of something that was actively experienced by a member of the band or someone known to a member of the band. Whatever the source of the narrative, the half-spoken vocals capture the mood perfectly.

Cancer is a pretty good record, and, if you like noisy music, I suggest you pick it up. I am left with the impression, however, that these songs will sound even better live, and I look forward to seeing the band in action in a few weeks time.

this needle navigates a field of arteries

your righteous squat's been burned to the ground

Belvedere Jehosophat

 

Punch the button and keep a fresh and up-to-date eyeball on our latest reviews, articles and filthy somesuch. Does not hit back.

Or simply subscribe via email:


 

Essays and articles

Kitchen Antics - Chicken in Faux Ragoût
Ladder of flavour? A few rungs above bland. This can be constructed & delivered in less than 30 minutes, depending on your aptitude with a knife.
Lassitude abandons the Throwing Knives
Down on the chamber pot, the percolating smells brew up quite the nasal fest. From the wafting fumes, the air solidifies partial sweaty rock and musty punk, a taste hinting at delicious pockets of after-aftertaste, and the not so floral punch of an undone music interview leaves the tongue wanting something else.
Where in Kentucky - Mammoth Cave National Park
Dark and neverending is the trail of a labyrinth below Edmonson County, Kentucky. Beyond the shallow graves and lime walls, Mammoth Cave is the literal long tail of cave systems. Alas, no minotaurs or woolly mammoths call the caverns home.

Undone, unbound, the sounds aground, life's taking the train with a soundtrack of harmonic dissonance, of inner turmoils and evolutionary spotchecking.

Copyright 2002-2010 The Wax Conspiracy

 

 

Nipple protection from the elements?
Armpit hair needs a lair?
Bellybutton catching too many flies?

Then grab this comfy chest covering and other kinds of T-shirts at The Wax Sweatshop.

id=ufo