We are Eyes, We Are Builders

By Edward Blake

Sweet Jesus, the eighties have finally arrived! The nostalgia has been brewing and growing so much with all the bloody TV programs and big round synth sounds that producers have been using that it’s finally spawned Satan himself in the form of Soviet. And like Satan, you’ll have a hard time not going for the persuasive arguments for life in Hell. Soviet make utterly dippy synth pop, complete with a flat male vocal that manages to sound like Bryan Ferry, Bernard Sumner and Neil Tennant all at the same time.

At 10:30 in the morning this album seems to inject you with a kind of hyperactive delirium for life, at 10:30 in the evening it makes you look at the oven in a whole new light. There’s a fine line to be drawn when dealing with such obviously tacky inspiration and Soviet manage to just step on the right side by keeping the whole thing electro – but you really couldn’t wish a whole 50 minutes of this on anyone. Surging DX7 arpeggios, like never-ending orgies on the hot rocks of Hell, may be an enticing proposition initially – but in the long run you’ll be better off in the safe hands of the Lord.
casi posted 18 October 2007 (17:05:18)
this is the lamest review i have ever read. this album is one of the best.
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