Hey, if the mere thought of one man's penis entering another man's rectum weirds you out, just skip to today's American Music Club review or whatever lap-pop record we just placed in Best New Music. Bergen's Datarock are about as dick-in-ass as it gets-- gayer than Guided By Voices, maybe even gayer than the Boo Radleys.
And the best part is I don't even think these dudes fuck! One-time Annie-collaborating Fredrik Saroea, according to the band's site, has a girlfriend (relax, it's not Annie), and Ketil Mosnes, the other guy, "is single but chances are big he is either too drunk or in a bad mood." Whatever, Saroea writes all the lyrics, and chances are big I've made all this stuff up anyway. The point is that gay disco-- which is what this fabulous duo pump out with strong accents of Madchester-via-Röyksopp, Sparks, and the Talking Heads-- continues to become aestheticized and genrefied, an autonomous vocabulary of licks and entendres entirely divorced from the sexual proclivities of the artist. Brown licenses are public property-- all your gays are belong to us.
The challenge: Are Datarock kitsch? Are they campy like Scissor Sisters? How do Datarock want to be received with lyrics like "Get on my hands and knees/ On your command I'll freeze" or songs like "Nightflight to Uranus", where "Uranus" is "your anus" and the rest is all "We're gonna give and then we'll receive" sorta stuff? Are they funny ha ha, or Funny Ha Ha? Reception's everything, sure fine okay, and musically the songs pack enough jabs for all you "I don't listen to lyrics" and "I only like hip-hop for dancing" types. But just something as quick as that Boney M flip above, or the twisted call-and-response on "Computer Camp Love" -- Datarock must know they're working within and challenging a genre to some extent, so I don't think it's fair to say all their cock talk is for knee jerks or without greater motivation.
Enough snorkling though, I need to tell you about these really awesome songs-- all total energy thing, with at least two or three solid curveball hooks amidst the feet fodder. Datarock jump around a bit stylistically, borrowing David Byrne's affectations, his band's jingle-jangle guitar lines even more so. That said, Datarock scrap together an identity across the album with (a) the aforementioned art-gayness and (b) live drums over drum machine production, with the balance leaning closer to the synthier side of things even on the album's rougher Sloppy Mondays moments, like the massive romp "I Used To Dance With My Daddy". Datarock have a song that riffs off of Maybelline cosmetics ("Maybe she's born with it") with the amount of space !!! went after with varying success on Louden Up Now, and "Laurie" could pass for one of those lap-rock songs we might get from one of those Plus/Minus type bands, (except it's actually good). There's never a bottom line with bands like this, but the bottom line with Datarock is the songs shoot for instant pleasure and accidentally end up being much more than that. Sorta how mom and dad ended up with five kids.
