Medium Medium
Hungry, So Angry

THE REVIEW

In post-punk England, a particularly interesting movement emerged. It was "white-funk," an explosive concoction that brought danceable rhythms to the forefront, where the strength and energy of the sound paid homage to the "Rock Against Racism" theory, in the spirit of a community mindset that was particularly prevalent among musicians of that environment.

More danceable and less politicized than their cousins A Certain Ratio and Gang Of Four, Medium Medium were initially considered even more talented. The specialized press greeted the launch of their debut album "Glitterhouse" with great enthusiasm. And one cannot say, after some time, that they were wrong.
Medium Medium borrowed from the great experience of the most extreme no-wave and metabolized it through a more digestible, but above all, more danceable language. It's indeed hard to remain insensitive to their rhythms, to their adrenaline bursts. Even the area's alternative scene noticed them, so much so that U2 wanted them alongside during the promotional tour of Boy.

The collection in question practically witnesses the entire career of the band, from their first single in '79, "Theme Or Me", until 1983, the year of their disbanding. Their style could summarily be defined as disco-funk. What else to call a piece like "Splendid Isolation"? An irresistible ride with bass, percussion, and ultra-minimal guitar stabs, all together to pay homage to the record's main cause: rhythm. It is always the undisputed protagonist, the altar upon which all virtuosity is sacrificed, in favor of a dance that breaks down racial barriers and becomes universal.
The trumpet bray that opens "Hungry, So Angry", immediately gives way to a shamelessly funky bass, engaged in pulsating beneath the android-tone declarations of the singer.
"Further Than Funk Dream" is an anthem marred by the screams of a drunken trumpet, upon which an epic militant refrain rises.
The exoticism that scents "7th Floor" is lost among the neurotic staccatos of electronics and bass in a slightly more crepuscular atmosphere.
An atmosphere that turns nocturnal in "Praying", a beautiful piece indebted to the more atmospheric Japan. A metallic bass lays the usual carpet, this time scattered with disorienting keyboard interventions and indefinable noises, on which a desperate lament full of epicness rises. Perhaps, their masterpiece.
The final closure is entrusted to another incursion into the dark, also close to Sylvian's group (particularly "Ghost"): "The Glitterhouse", an unsettling 2-minute journey among constellations of minor notes, tambourines, and apathetic laments, the only track where the rhythm plays a marginal role.

Ultimately, an excellent, quite engaging record from a group with a short life like so many, but which succeeded like few in "commercializing" the "vital" elements of an unrepeatable period.