Much ado is being made lately about rock bands masquerading as electronic acts. From Radiohead's voyages into squiggly experimentation and beatmongering, to the current Rapture school of hiring producers to apply a timely lacquer of club sauce, such acts are celebrated for their admirable attempts at forward-thinking. But what of the inverse-- the electronic acts giving rock music a whirl? Is this equally inspired genre hopscotch, or musical devolution?
Well, I'm sure it could qualify as either, depending on what the artists achieve, but for Death in Vegas, it's the latter. Adhering to what must be formal guidelines set by the electronic music industry, Death in Vegas exist as a duo, and have ever since the height of the electronic boom in the mid-to-late 1990s. The band made their American name with the Woodstock-sampling, K-Tel Lost Hits of the Alternative Era candidate "Dirt" back in 1997 (the video was much more interesting than the song), but from there, they attempted a more hybridized sound-- 1999's The Contino Sessions took aim at territory mapped by Primal Scream earlier in the decade.
Scorpio Rising continues along that asymptote towards a supposed "organic" sound, going light on the laptop and heavy on the relics of yesteryear: drums, basses, and guitars. In fact, if not for Death in Vegas' faceless DJ anonymity and a couple of characteristic electronic facets (the implementation of a few choice samples; a roster of Brit-centric celebrity guest vocalists including Paul Weller, Hope Sandoval, and Liam Gallagher), one might assume that the outfit responsible for this album was just a band with a hefty case of NME-approved 60s psych nostalgia.
Which makes sense: If psychedelic rock begat the trance/dance of the 90s rave scene, it's not much of a stretch to figure that Death in Vegas would naturally come out sounding pretty Summer of Love if given the Altered States treatment. Brother Liam's appearance on the title track might as well be subtitled "Setting Sun Pt. 2", placing Gallagher in a comfortable zone of "Tomorrow Never Knows" drum loops and backwards guitar. It's familiar, right down to the awful lyrics ("I wanna go to heaven, never been there before"), but refreshingly direct-- closer to Definitely Maybe form than the pretentious bloat of recent Oasis.
Elsewhere, Paul Weller gets a paisley backdrop of his own, lending a chesty vocal to "If You Say You Lost Your Baby" that does well to approximate a roided-up Forever Changes, while slower material engages in grandiose displays of Indian-inflected orchestration, conducted by the mysteriously Bond-villain-sounding Dr. Subramaniam. Two of these (the banjo-and-mandolin-contrasted "Killing Suite" and the droning "Help Yourself") feature former Mazzy Star crooner Hope Sandoval, and your appreciation of such is probably directly proportional to your nostalgia for "Fade Into You"-type atmospheric noir.
It's telling, of course, that the most appealing track on Scorpio Rising is what appears to be the token handout to the dance world: a slice of straight electro called "Hands Around My Throat" that samples Tortoise and also, somehow, "Rock Around the Clock". With much of the rock arrangements ill-suited to Death in Vegas' club-honed compositional sensibilities, tracks like "Leather" and "Girls" striking a groove but never fully cresting, the stiff rhythms and deadpan delivery (from Adult.'s Nicola Kuperus) of "Hands Around My Throat" are well supported, rather than overwhelmed, by some additive live drumming and clanging guitar.
So while the two hearts of Death in Vegas are firmly in the right place, given that some of the biggest electronic hits have been from DJs hewing their sound to a rock standard, the execution is ultimately flawed. Perhaps the duo is just second-tier to begin with, or perhaps they just let the needle swing too far towards the rock side of the dial, but the peak moments on Scorpio Rising offer little more than enjoyable nostalgia for overhead-projector light shows. It may be no more embarrassing than any of the rock-band-in-electronic-clothes attempts sure to be thrust upon us in the coming months, but it's clear Death in Vegas don't have the recipe to the magic rock/electronic stew we've all been told to save our dancefloor moves for.
