Moods
Superthriller. No, not the name of the forthcoming Michael Jackson tribute musical, but the electro funk outfit comprising of Andrew Rowland and brother Ben and Max Ringham. Moods is their third official album, an album of contrasts between lounge and dance floor, sleaze and sublime.
Opener ‘Moodswings’ could easily be an advert for female sanitary products with its obscenely catchy, echoing chorus and seductively inviting bassline before the track grinds to a spongy ending. A short drum break later and ‘It’s OK To Get Carried Away’ continues the comedy with its incessant piano and falsetto vocals repeating the song title like a mantra. All highly irritating but ‘Chomsky And Normski’ take the hilarity that step too far; built around a distorted synth that belongs in an 80’s kiddies TV show, never to be revisited. Not only is the subject matter debatable, for instance the two meeting at a party seems far fetched, let alone exchanging ideas regarding trigonometry, scratching and geo-politics. The initial vocals aggravate, sounding more appropriate on a camp documentary and then the final verse, oh yes, the final verse, akin to Monty Python’s take on lumberjacks only not near as funny, only the most tedious of barbershop quartets.
‘People People’ is Superthriller’s take on Prince-esque sleaze funk until the Stevie Wonder influenced chorus repeatedly steals the track’s thunder. Sensible and seemingly modest, the track displays what the outfit can produce when they behave. In direct contrast, they allow the following track ‘Hungry Like The Wolf’ to embrace the funk full on featuring sequenced beats combined with nifty nomming samples and an infectious, seedy chorus. The lyrics read like a nursery rhyme, albeit one that would satisfy revellers at 3am and proves that if you were hoping on lyrical genius then this, clearly, is not the album for you. But then Superthriller have never appeared to take themselves critically, hence the appeal. ‘Caroline’ defeats the momentum with a haunting melody centred around swirling, seductive vocals about… naked Germans on holiday. Coming on like a chuddering freight train is ‘Everybody’s Gonna Get Some’ with the sort of bombastic basslines, spooky keyboard and silky smooth vocals that allowed Gnarls Barkley to become an overnight success. Slowing the tempo down a notch again is ‘Taragh’ featuring sequenced electronica and twinkling percussion whilst the subject matter is again peculiar, regarding obsessive groupies this time.
Then from lounge music to Flight Of The Conchords filth; ‘Today Was A Good Day’ could easily feature on the New Zealand comedy duo’s show. Not simply for the overgenerous funk basslines but the tedious, overplaying of lyrics aligns adroitly, only in this case he gets the girl in no time at all. The direction then diverts to the sort of camp French 60s pop that should be left well alone yet ‘Punchy Le Pico’ is included. ’Dreaming’ again gives the hint that the outfit can do serious, thoughtful yet quirky electronica if they so wished. If only they did as ‘Night Mood’ features enough idyllic, dreamy rhythms to send a hyper-active child to sleep with a grin upon its face. Of course the album would finish with a slice of comedy with ‘Luxury Mood’ sounding like foreign 70s porn, centred around echoed vocals repeating Brucies Generation Game conveyor belt.
From playful to pretentious, pop to funk; Superthriller deliver an album containing more contrasts than a chocolate box. Just don’t take them seriously.