Endless Boogie
Focus Level

THE REVIEW

"What will remain of these '00s?"

Paraphrasing a renowned local songwriter, I found myself pondering this question. What will remain, musically speaking, of this first decade of the new century? To be reductive, each decade has had a rather distinctive sound; if the '50s are r'n'r, the '60s psychedelia, the '70s punk, the '80s New Wave, the '90s Grunge, for which trend will the '00s be remembered?

Obviously, it's still too early to say, but a small point can already be made. To be reductive again, they could be defined as the years of syncretism, or of mixed-up revival, depending on whether you're optimistic or pessimistic. These are years where the barriers between genres have definitely fallen, whether due to the ability to listen to everything produced since the '30s with the click of a button, due to the more open-mindedness of the new generations, or because there are seven notes and no more half seasons. It affects both listeners and musicians: metalheads listening to dub, clubbers into Ravi Shankar, punk enthusiasts crazed for doo wop, and nowadays it's even risky to mock someone for their limited taste in music, you might end up looking like a fool.  Nowadays, almost nothing new is invented, but widely known and easily accessible ingredients are well mixed, with more or less originality.

The Endless Boogie (even though they are all around forty) reflect this desire to play at being Dr. Moreau or Baron Samedi, depending on the case. They have chosen to hybridize the Rolling Stones of "Sticky Fingers" with NEU, adding just a touch of Iguana Pop for garnish. Unfortunately, the result of the experiment is a three-headed golem that struggles a bit to divide its triple personality.

Yet the start is enlightening. "Smoking Figs In The Backyard" are southern Stones with Iggy Pop on vocals talking about barbecue, "The Manly Vibe" invites Teutonic friends to the party, while the fake Iggy enters a totally personal trip between Mike Patton and the Chipmunks, and the rest of the band literally locks into the same groove and repeats it for 9 minutes! The alienating and iterative effect of the rhythm induces either blues trance states like hadn't been heard for a long time ("Executive Focus" and the robotic "Steak Rock" ), or instantaneous naps on the couch (the 10 plus mins of "Jammin' With Top Dollar").

So maximum respect for the interesting idea and for two or three spot-on tracks, but nowadays releasing a record of 79 mins and expecting the listener to maintain their attention span for more than half the album, is not just mere utopia, it’s almost presumption.

At this point, I’m waiting for a dub mazurka album.