On Metronomy's Nights Out
Album of 2008, for me. When this decade is given proper appraisal by the pince-nez dons of the dadsheets, it will be concluded that disco punk rock was one of the places it was at. Won’t happen until 2020 or so, but give ‘em time. They are infirm. The evidence is already available, though. From that last Dismemberment Plan record through House Of Jealous Lovers, LCD and !!! to Klaxons and their many admirers this side of the pond, the disco punk rock has been pretty fucking persistent throughout. I’d rather have a decade defined by Standing In the Way of Control than Wonderwall: though I’m not keen on either I can at least see why somebody might want the former to exist.
Metronomy’s album is kinda like the Klaxons one, to the extent that it exhumes a bunch of discredited sonic gags from the basement of the eighties and alchemises them into shiny now-pop, but it’s a little more homely and twisted. It’s music for the girls who have moustaches and the boys who have tits to feel like they belong to and it’s music for the beautiful smartasses of the art school to be cool to. It’s the direct heir of the likes of Associates and Sparks, which is to say it’s pretty damn near perfect.
Most of the people currently employed to communicate their passion for pop music in print believe that pop music is now condemned to repeat itself in ever decreasing circles. These people have not read their Fukuyama. Or maybe they have. Maybe that’s the problem.