No Global Warming Here!

Icy cold vistas, shards of broken electronic glass, relentless thumping disco beats and possible mysteriously encrypted bits of dialogue may not sound like something that would be particularly inviting on a full range audio system, but somehow Fuck Buttons makes it so on this album of artificial mayhem and just plain noise.

The more you listen, the more your brain can begin to unravel the sonic components that produce these enticing synthesized soundscapes. On the other hand you might just want to do a popper and relive the ‘70s, depending upon your experiences and predilections because this oddly modern yet retro music can sound like either outer space or a drugged out disco inferno.

The “tunes” aren’t so much composed as they are programmed over steady beats. The duo blends deep, ring modulator like feedback-drenched squiggles with high pitched squeals set to simple, shifting three chord triads to produce a wide band treat for some ears and just plain shit-noise for others.

Clearly Fuck Buttons’ studio creations will not please every musical taste and Brian Eno they are not, nor obviously do they aspire to be, but in my musical world, this kind of cold, abrasion acts as a pleasing audio palette cleanser.

Aside from being oddly therapeutic and sounding really good (not at all harsh and bright) and producing a wide and deep artificial soundstage, some of the thrash-noise engraved in the grooves of this well pressed double 180g vinyl set just might act as a good system demagnetizer.

That’s a possible added benefit as you listen while fingering the cool, smooth orange (fuck?) buttons embossed on the album jacket. Can’t do that with a download, nor would it sound as good as this. If you’ve got bass, Tarot Sport will exercise your woofers. Speaking which, judging by the picture on the inner gatefold, these two young guys are already sporting big studio midriff tires. Some Pilates guys...

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