Fuck Buttons
Street Horrrsing
ATPR, 2008
By Allana Mayer
I am absolutely convinced that there is a way to express rhythm in words, but I haven’t the slightest clue what it is.
The rhythm that has me so sure of this is in “Colours Move” from the Fuck Buttons’ Street Horrrsing — I’m totally speechless to describe the force, the endless repetition without variation, the message that would be angry if it wasn’t so cold and mechanical. It’s like Red Robot #C-63 from Diesel Sweeties got hisself a copy of GarageBand. The rest of the song, and in fact the album, is echoed metallic screeches, or reverbed-to-shit voices, or something like that. It somehow straddles the line between organic and inorganic, and if it weren’t for that ever-so-basic minor to major chord change every eight beats, you’d have no clue there were any emotions involved.
Fuck Buttons should’ve just titled their album “Back to Basics” — rather than bother with unnecessary hindrances like instruments or words they explore how the changing dynamic of fuzz can be enough of a timekeeper, how single note changes can be enough of a progression, and how absolute a release can come just from receding slowly into nothingness.
Who are these preposterous individuals with such a firm grasp on how simple patterns can become inescapable? (Answer: two generic hipster dudes from Bristol.) They’re probably akin to Black Dice, though this comparison took its dear sweet time coming to me. My brain wants desperately for these songs to resolve with sounds as predictable as their structures — so much so that I described Fuck Buttons to someone as “industrial pop.” There’s no fucking pop here. But I’m sure that there could be, or at least something dancey enough to put Crystal Castles to shame. As it is, there’s something deeply personal in the way you have to consume this, which just reinforces the “help, I’m trapped in a beat and can’t get out” vibe. None of these are bad things.
I highly suggest that you listen and try your hand at describing the beats — without just drumming on nearby objects and saying “it’s like this.” Hey, if Fuck Buttons can express so much with just a rhythm, surely we can do more with just words.
(YES, I AM AWARE THAT THIS IS JUST MUSIC.)
This album is amazing, one of my favorites this year. Great review. It is industrial pop…sort of…I guess because it turns noise into something addictive.
–J. Skinner
This has got to be one of my least favorite albums ever. I guess I just don’t “get it”.