AS LOUD AS POSSIBLE (ISSUE ONE)
I'm in a minority, and even though I have often been told that I'm wrong, I consider Power Electronics to be something of a spent force which should have been left in a shallow roadside ditch some miles back. The only reliables are the long-termers, such Asp, Balisteri, Dando and Solotroff, who, like Bruce Lee before them, offer glimmers of hope to undisciplined imitators masquerading as badboys, who pull their bedroom mirror moves whilst securely decked out in military surplus, fan-boy t-shirts and topped with the obligatory peaked black cap. As sweeping generalisations go, it would seem that the ranks of these vanilla dullards are constantly being expanded by an influx of players recruited from the straight-jacketed ranks of the Hardcore and Metal circuses, where the flock mentality is the unwritten law, and imposing their one-size-fits-all scene regulations a hobby, It's this safety-in-numbers approach and scene molding that snuffs out unique, individual voice, miring us in a pit of the same old tired clichés and opinions. I want my PE to be delivered as a genuine insight into a particular artist's mindset, not by somebody with identification issues flaunting his supposedly 'private' 'obsessions' (which are, amazingly, the exact same as everybody else's on his mailing list) in front of his little playmates, unsure, unable or unwilling to stand on his own two feet, And I want some cold distance to the subject, coupled with a bit of vague mystery, both of which seem to be lacking from today's team-players. That's why the individual indiscretions of, say, George Michael are far more invigorating and interesting than the tedious clichés of the rock 'n' roll lifestyle exhibited by Montly Crue, doing exactly what they're expected to do in that position they hold.
It's unique, peculiar traits that separate the driven from the masses, fuelling a need that pushes the artist to do what he has to do without any concerns for recognition, let alone acceptance. Nobody in PE should be looking to bond, and nobody should be serious about asking others what their next move should be. Which piece of art is actually a genuine reflection of the artist is tough to pin down, and let's face it, 'authenticity' has always been the greatest deceiver in rock music, but still, contemporary PE, with its sad parody of needy attention-seeking scenesters stretches tolerance levels. Mine, anyway.
These dismal trollops will continue with their play-ground bravado, pushing and shoving each other around at shows, rallying their internet warrior buddies, naked and exposed with full decks dealt, at least until the big boys, watching from a distance, finally step out from behind the bikesheds and demand that the kids hand over their pocket-money. With Crowd Pleaser, that demand is finally made.
It would have been far too easy for somebody as highly regarded within PE's hierarchy as Philip Best to have bandied these recordings around any number of safehouse labels and demand his own terms, but it's a testament to the project's individuality and belief in self that the took the hard option oversaw the whole production on his own. It's given aid along the way from Mattin (who had to leave his philosophy books behind) and long-terms accomplice Gary Mundy, as well as the absolute craftsmanship of Rashad Becker during the mastering stage, which makes the whole album fucking bullet-proof.
They lyrical onslaught never lets up from the off, and is snarled out with a rapid-fire intensity. A constant stream of polemic, surging forward, switching from bitter to puzzled, but always lacking any trace of empathy whilst operating without a safety-net of buzzwords. The muzzled restraint which highlighted his work with the two most intriguing tracks on Whitehouse's Asceticist 2006 Album, and which every had expected for the No Fun Productions LP (Nobody's Ugly), is blown apart and the results are delivered with the most effective, fractures viciousness as record has hurled forth in a long time.
Side Two allows the librarian and wordsmith to stand aside and lets the musicians through. Like Nobody's Ugly, this features another highly precise instrumental construction which, whilst having none of the jagged shards strewn across it like the outbursts on the first side, builds on wailing tones and hits like a sneak-attacks from the SAS, in and out within a few minutes, Minimum fuss, maximum impact.
Steve Underwood