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Eddie Argos and co. are back in our ears after last year’s ‘amicable’ split from EMI, soon after the major label released the song Pump Up The Volume as a download without their say so. Art Brut vs. Satan is released on Cooking Vinyl, the home of The Prodigy, Heaven 17, Camper Van Beethoven, and now Art Brut. It’s a proud record label championing pioneers and poets like the Pixies and Billy Bragg, but whether Art Brut fit in there remains to be seen.
Eddie Argos is a poet though, isn’t he? - a modern day troubadour, telling us of his woes, his loves and his losses, with simple, pure, pop-punk verses? Like a Greater London Weezer Art Brut have won the hearts of a dedicated few while completely passing by the contented masses. Perhaps that’s why the split with EMI was so amicable – the imprint wanted world-beaters, Art Brut just wanted to write love songs.
So, have they still got it? Well, Art Brut vs. Satan opener Alcoholics Unanimous would say yes. It’s a balls out of the bath rant about a hangover. “Bring me tea, bring me coffee” bellows Argos with his typical snarl-less endearment.
The album is produced by Frank Black, of The Pixies and Frank Black fame, and is better for it. On The Passenger - a funny nod to Iggy and the Stooges that is literally about public transport - loose guitar noise gives way to Kim Deal-esque backing vox before in comes Argos to claim it back. Then on What A Rush more of Frank’s geetar whining squeals through the speakers. But this is a good thing, mos def.
Sadly, the album peters out. Argos continues to moan like a fifteen year old losing Emily Kane, but it starts to grate. DC Comics and Chocolate Milkshakes is great – probably the best track on the album (and I prefer Marvel and Strawberry) but by the time you get to Summer Job, via Am I Normal and (Chaka Demus & Pliers tribute) Twist & Shout to the painful Mysterious Bruises, it’s too much.
It’s out of date. On Demon’s Out he’s shouting about pop music, the record buying public and reality TV. Come on Eddie, we’ve done that, the public don’t buy records any more.
Slap Dash For No Cash is a raucous respite where he champions real, raw music; music where you can here their parents saying “turn it down, turn it down, TURN IT DOWN!” but it’s not enough to save the album. Despite some inspired moments, the record middling too often.
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