Usually not one to attempt to scathe any hard-working artist, I make the odd exception, and even then, only to those who have no interest in my words and to whom my sorry tale will not offend or damage.
With his poodle like appearance, sporting a tash & perm combo only akin to Rene Higuita (above), Deez dumps the jangly happyclap guitar riffs of debut self titled album, Darwin Deez, for something much more self-indulgent and strained. Songs For Imaginative People sees slapdash skits and purposely irregular song structuring alongside ridiculous song names; see opener ‘(800) HUMAN’. Answers on a postcard for why there is a random number in the title; how very hip.
The album’s title itself is telling, I had to re-read it twice to ensure there was a For and not By. The album as a whole is forced down your throat and lyrically, well, Deez is about as clear as mud. Staying true to the colourful codes of ‘Constellations’, this album sees more of the same word-smithery “got in bed Cause god is dead” being a beautiful example.
‘No Love’ is probably the album’s highlight, a simple keyboard hook shadowed with droning major key riffs harking back to the simple but altogether more effective previous album. I’m not sure the ‘Copacabana’ synth is too necessary, though.
Former psychology student Deez, or to give him his less exciting name, Darwin Smith, is the kind of guy who if you asked him to describe himself in three words, no doubt two of these would be ‘random’ and ‘kooky’. Lead track ‘Free (The Editorial Me)’ drops Deez’s whimsical ‘charm’ and substitutes any care-freeness with carefully constructed chaos. I can only compare the intro to this track to having your eardrums pulled out with rusting pliers, the track made me google if my laptop speakers had broken. The scouring riff blends lo-fi garage rock with and itchy and grating overtones, “Life is a greenhouse gas, half the police in masks”.
From the angular pop of the almost One Direction sampled ‘(800) Human’ all the way through to the R. Kelly-R&B vibe of ‘Redshift’, this 10-track tornado is like being dragged through every angular genre of the seventies to the midnineties by your feet, by a hipster, your face grazing against cold class C scattered gravel, laden with scene kids partying like it’s 2006.
…Adam is listening to The History Of Apple Pie – ‘I Want More’
Keep an eye out for upcoming single, ‘Scorpion Kick’: