Out Hud, S.T.R.E.E.T. D.A.D. (Kranky) 9+
A couple years into the new-new wave/no wave/post-punk revival, now referred to ridiculously as "electroclash," a band has finally measured up to original inspirations like P.i.L., ESG, Liquid Liquid, 23 Skidoo, and Adrian Sherwood's dub explorations. In fact, the six-year old Out Hud, formerly from Sacramento, now in Brooklyn, have even managed to, as The Streets' Mike Skinner says, push things forward. The sometimes members of !!! (Chik Chik Chik) have managed to take elements of early 80s electro-funk and created something unique. The long vocal-less tracks all feature some sort of danceable beat, but not in the boring 4-4 house-style club automatrons are used to. Swirling in between the funk, dub, and hip-hop style breakbeats are finely textured elements acknowledging the post-rock 'n' prog excursions of Disco Inferno and Tortoise, cut 'n' click electronica, and even the monochromatic guitars of Factory Records pioneers The Durutti Column. The album's centerpiece is the 12:19 minute "The L Train Is A Swell Train And I Don't Want To Hear You Indies Complain," which near the end pays homage to Tortoise's equally ambitious "Djed" with its lovely organ and strings near the end. The shorter but no-less stunning "Hair Dude, You're Stepping On My Mystique," is a haunting death disco with scratching, staccato strings and eerie minor-chord guitars, laced with flashes of noise. "Dad, There's A Little Phrase Called Too Much Information" also incorporates controlled bursts of static noise to its gnarly skeleton. While S.T.R.E.E.T. D.A.D. incorporates some noise elements, it less jarring and more accessible than, say, Kid 606 or Black Dice. "This Bum's Paid" features an echoing, James Blood Ulmer-style harmolodic guitar on a bed of nocturnal drones and, of course, a funky beat. These are well-constructed songs that move from point A to B rather than meander aimlessly, holding up well under the scrutiny of headphones, as background music, and dance music. I imagine Out Hud's live show could turn the most uptighty of arm-folding indie cognoscenti into foolishly tail-shaking robo-bunnies on the dancefloor. It would be a great idea if Out Hud shared their rhythmic and atmospheric innovations with other artists like a 21st century house band à la The Meters, The M.G.'s, The Bar-Kays and The J.B.'s. No offense to the Neptunes or Timbaland, but the next pop start to upstage Missy Elliott needs Out Hud on their side. It's about time music starts sounding like it's the 21st century.
