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A provocative title for the second album of
Matthew Herbert's partner and long time
vocalist, one that brings to mind the directness of
Peaches. As you'd expect though, Siciliano
proves to be rather more subtle in her music and
lyrical execution.
You wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of her
though. There's definitely a hint of menace in the
quieter vocals here, whether intended or not - not a
woman you'd think of messing with. Even her more
obvious come-ons - and you can't get much more direct
than Didn't Anybody Tell You where she coos "get off,
get off on me" - are startling in their effect.
On top of this is her highly original way with
production. Electronic music for sure, but several
mediums have been considered and filter their way into
the consciousness - blues, soul, country even. The
influence of Herbert runs throughout - that is, until
you remember Siciliano and Herbert have long been
mutually influential, so she deserves rather more
recognition than she gets! His credit as an additional
producer implies more than a backroom role, but for
the subtle electronic brushes dressing much of
Slappers Siciliano can get the credit for the original
noises coming out of mixing desk and sampler.
Like Herbert, Siciliano tends to utilise electronic
manipulations of acoustic material. Though seemingly
stopping short of battery chickens and crunching
apples this time, there's more imagination to be found
in the choice of sources. They Can Wait uses vocal
samples from an American high school, channelled
through drummer Leo Taylor's kit. My Producer
is a great in-joke between Siciliano and Herbert, with
Dani's self-produced track entirely using beats
sampled from her own voice. On the title track, all
recording artists present slap their asses for extra
sampling material - quite literally, a load of
arse.
The electronic wizardry is never used for the sake
of display though, and always adds something essential
to the music. In no way is this over-produced, and the
subtlety of the counter melodies is often astonishing,
as in what sounds like a filtered, flutter-tongued
flute in a fuzzy distorted clothing for They Can
Wait.
She's the female equivalent to Herbert for sure,
but with her own strong personality firmly stamped on
this record, her original thoughts laid out in what
becomes a surprisingly intimate, thought provoking and
occasionally startling listen.
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