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Birmingham's Trash Fashion have taken their dark synths and brooding rhythms, committed them to record, and are ready to unleash themselves unashamedly to the world. I'm almost excited.
The opener, Beat Goes Round, sets the precedent for an album that is let down significantly by terrible vocals and worse lyrics. Said opener stack piles layers of thrillingly beefy synth sounds that are tainted by the Audiobully wannabe vocal work of a man who goes by the name of Storm. Jet Storm. It's only when another rush of pulsating synth lines appear at the bloated song's finale that the Beat Goes Round white knight appears to spare blushes.
Seemingly keen to cash in on electronica's successful infiltration into more mainstream indie music, Trash Fashion appear happy to sound, well, fashionable, but do little to add their own elements or stamp any identity on their record. It all sounds a bit desperate and confused, like the songs are caught between the direction they should naturally go in, and what Trash Fashion think they should be sounding like to get played by Zane Lowe.
Tight Body is like a hellish bastardisation of Futureheads, a bad Foals tribute band, and, erm, Teletubbies, while Rave Dave's anecdotal tale of this Dave character struggling at a rave while his, apparently rave-fluent, accomplice tries to pluck up the courage to chat to the fit ladies is pathetic. And this is meant to be the track that started it all?
With numerous examples of adept, throbbing, rousing synth energy, as well as super-crisp production, it's a genuine shame that the vocal work is so spectacularly off the mark, Nights Of Error representing a missed opportunity, as with more attention to detail in their songcraft, and perhaps a new singer, Trash Fashion could be twice as good.
As it is, the vocal work cleverly bridges the gap between the worst bits of Audiobully's vocals, and classic 80s football team pop fumblings (World In Motion, anyone?), with occasional unexplainable, uncontrolled outbursts of anger (Why Can't We Be Friends?) - aw.
Beat Goes Round, We Go To War, and Night Of Error are all examples of near stompers, boasting moments of genius, but all ultimately disappoint because of an inability to engage or provide any hooks large enough to hang the listener upon, before pummelling him senseless with feral, ferocious synths. The net effect is that Trash Fashion come across as incredible, in the truest sense of the word.
Ironically, Trash Fashion sound desperate to be fashionable. Their synth sounds and melodies are great, but the songs are bloated, the lyrics are clichés large enough to be seen from space, and there is no soul or originality to their music. Divert your attention to Missing Andy instead. Sorry Jet Storm. Cool name though.
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