, February 28th, 2011 12:43
Discodeine are a meeting of minds: French minds, comprising of Pilooski - whose name may be familiar to those who enjoy remixes of Bryan Ferry, LCD Soundsystem, Four Seasons and Mystery Jets – and Pentile, who was involved with Octet (and if you have a quick butchers at his myspace you can enjoy his buggered up baroque house stylings). Having already knocked out a handful of EPs, with tunes such as the sleazy 'Joystick' and 'Synchronize' (which had Jarvis Cocker on vocals, and also features here), they've turned their attention to a long playing environment, to see if what you can do with four tracks translates into 12.
Discodeine are about chianti and basslines, drapes and elegance, seduction and smoked glass shuffle. With a delightfully sheer gleam glide of Italo touches, homoerotic dalliances and glitter sweat, their début augments the prism and broadens the spectrum, reflecting light into previously unearthed shade.
Discodeine the album offers up an expressive eclecticism while holding on to its own identity. 'Falkenberg' would be ideal for post-modernist tropicaliaists, with its jaunty steel drum motif – and let's face it, the use of steel drums can only ever be deemed as "jaunty" – and propulsive percussion, and there's the panache of velour Frenchness in touch with their forefathers such as Jean Michel Jarre and Walter/ Wendy Carlos on epic closer 'Figures In A Soundscape', which is grand without being pompous. 'D-A' envelopes Baxter Dury in soft focus wafting Air-iness, with enough minor key action to lend a dash of sinister to the otherwise elegant chill, while 'Homo Compatible' is an intergalactic shoulder-padded cruiser.
'Synchronize',meanwhile, stands out significantly here - possibly because it's the best known track, and with the vaguely sleazy delivery and Love Unlimited dramatics, it's the most Pulp-sounding thing Jarvis has done since, um, Pulp. The empowering warehouse piano motifs on 'Grace' manages to connect the dots on 35 years of shape throwing, and the mighty 'Ring Mutilation' works you up into a tidy giddy rave lather.
Discodeine looks good and feels great. It's a pleasing array of discotacular moments, a veritable post modern buffet of boogie wherein the dialogue of 30 years of dancefloor angles is on hand to be bent into new shapes. The nearest contemporaries would be Lindstrom after severe editing, or the cascading undulations of Diskjokke. Perhaps one tiny criticism is the tendency to slide into anonymity midway through; possibly another guest vocalist or some random comedy noise would've perked proceedings up? Pilooski knows his way around a remix and what characteristics a floorfiller should deploy, after all, so a bit of tightening up might've helped. That said, it's a fine hour of music: get Discodeine into your bloodstream.