Smyglyssna
We Can Fix It

By Miles Hawthorn

 
There's a busker that regularly sits near London Bridge and bashes the hell out of various items of junk metal, such as pots and pans, buckets and dustbins. He is pretty damn good and this album reminds me a great deal of him; mutant space age junk funk in the Cristian Vogel mould with freaked out, blippy sound FX.

The album starts off very stop/start with plenty of splintered and tricky grooves, but sounds quite artificial, with none of the warmth I need in this style of machine music. It develops though, and further in the muddling rhythms of track five work better for me, where a certain softness starts to show, and on track six which has more consistent rhythms and a great lowdown bassline. Track nine starts to get more loungy; you half expect Frank Sinatra to start crooning over the moony incidental throbs and crinkly funk. Although coming in fairly short at 45 minutes, overall this is a quick fix of schizoid, jumbled-up-funk-from-the-future for all the wonk lovers out there.
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