Maybe it's because I spend most days seeing only black faces (yes, I'm white) but I've always been a been a bit suspicious of white people fakin' the funk. Any novice in the history of funk and point to a litany of white dudes who actually produced relevant works (in some case even vital). And I've never been quite sure where my allegiance falls with this band. Their weird fake tans and boy scout uniforms always seemed a bit ridiculous at best, and possibility fascistic in its ultimate best. Being limeys doesn't help the matter none. Nevertheless, this record certainly makes it clear why so many dummos wish they could play like them now. Synthesizing punk, funk, pop, out sounds, and all the rest is no easy feat yet this record plays with that youthful joy that makes my old brittle marrow (probably cancer filled by now) bounce around with joy. Even lame old white dude like me can't resist a little nerdy hip sway when this comes on.
The Machine – Faceshift (2018)
7 hours ago