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Rating:
Nebraska. Early '90s.
Against the bored and desolate backdrop of the city of Omaha, the sad and angry children of the American Midwest gather around the record collective "Saddle Creek Records."
The mission is unequivocally low budget and lo-fi, and the artistic roster magically reconciles emocore, folk-rock, and new-wave. In the shadow of the mainstream, prestigious brands like Bright Eyes, Cursive, and The Faint solidify. The latter self-proclaim as the pioneers of the '80s revival, without unnecessary fashionable varnishing.
Diverting from the pavement indie rock path (after their debut album "Media"), the band tests an original Electro-SynthPop formula, drawing inspiration from the aseptic and sophisticated sound of Human League, Depeche Mode, and Talking Heads. Todd Baechle and company abandon guitar riffs and start playing with analog synths and drum machines, winking at the New York "all-star and glitter" scene.
"Wet From The Birth" came out in 2004, and the result is slightly below the expectations of the horrific, yet overwhelming "Danse Macabre," of which an interesting remix collection was released by Astralwerks. The album is undeniably enticing and sly. It entertains without resorting to clichéd and banal commercial idioms. Arrangements and lyrics are bold and cheeky, and everything is spiced with a strong self-irony. In this project, The Faint refine their research on the expressive potential of keyboards, adding a massive dose of strings and dance rhythms. In the musical approach, the indelible Punk inspiration of Orange, Bad Brains, and Dead Kennedys remains well identifiable.
At the production, Saddle Creek's home deus ex machina, Mike Mogis, a master at rationalizing the hyperbolic inventiveness of Omaha's band.
During the listening, the rhythms marked by electronic beats stand out powerfully, with some electroclash incursions like in "Symptom Finger." Dark-gothic citations are not lacking, like in "Birth," and brazen references to Depeche Mode like in "Erection"... "I Dissapear" could easily be a super MTV hit: pulsating rhythmic base, delirious text, and a brief foray into goth-progressive items.
A nice hodgepodge, disjointed and schizophrenic, where sounds range from Nine Inch Nails guitarisms to techno rhythms in Basement Jaxx style...
Eclectic or zany? Over-the-top or ingenious?
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Desperate Guys (03:07)
Was it more than attraction
And a physical lust?
Or loins, my imagination
That first inconceivable touch
That I was planning
I mean wishing
How embarrassed I'd have been
If you knew what I was thinking
And, whoa, when it started
My first thought was love
And not just lust
Because when I heard you speak
I felt warm
In the evening I saw you
You were warming the bass up
Your hair covered your face up
I was acting indifferent at the merch booth
Putting on makeup
We met up at a party
In a swamp, on a yacht
I spun the helm but we were docked
I crossed my fingers
But I didn't beg
Because I knew you knew
Because I knew you knew I liked you
I knew you knew I liked you
I knew you knew it
But I figured desperate guys
Never had a chance with you
I figured desperate guys
Never had a chance with you
Close to you, wishing
We're conjoined at the tongue
Can you hear me thinking?
I should stop
I crossed my fingers
But I didn't beg
Because I knew you knew
Because I knew you knew I liked you
I knew you knew I liked you
I knew you knew it
But I figured desperate guys
Never had a chance
I knew you knew I liked you
I knew you knew it
Because I figured desperate guys
Never had a chance with you
I figured desperate guys
Never had a chance with you
I knew that desperate guys
Would never have a chance with you
02 How Could I Forget? (03:18)
introverted boy
you are not interesting, boy
you think you're intellectual
but no one's talking to you now
I might be an introvert
to you, a shallow fashionista
deep as any paper plate
dressed just like the girl beside you
how could I forget
a waste of cloth
of course, I do remember
on the back deck drunk and awkward
I think we accidently met
I know you've got some place to get to
and I really got to get somewhere
remember when I said
that Vincent had some tickets for me there
how could I forget
a waste of breath
of course, I do remember
all the things you said were pointless
now you go on dropping names
03 I Disappear (04:08)
I disappear
I lost control
My body's moving
on it's own
I watch myself
Walk away
A foreign spirit
took my place
An empty stare
its eyes are dull
So my essence
It's riding my pulse
A burst of black
A breath of smoke
I disappeared
I lost control
I
I disappear
I disappear
I disappear
I disappear
I lost control
My body's moving
on it's own
I watch myself
Walk away
A foreign spirit
took my place
I
I disappear
I disappear
I disappear
How could I resist
It's all I've wanted
Now I guess I've got it
Why it happened, I don't know
Hope this doesn't last forever
I disappear
I disappear
I disappear
I disappear
04 Southern Belles in London Sing (03:32)
Scarlet boots, the kiss of death
Patience and the end of it
Blended angels, whispered love
Countdown 'til it's gone, for long
Velvet voices, haunting slow
Darkened nooks, with bright decor
Georgian femmes are gone for weeks
Southern belles in london sing
I'm staring down the Eppley gate
Two more days before the plane arrives
And you'll be standing here with your smile
Carving up the lobby seats
Pushing down the caffeine drinks
Checking the arrival screens for yours
A hundred feet above the landing
There's a girl gliding down
She's floating toward me now
Her sleeves are all stretching out
And the jet is following behind
Wake up
London skids a grinding halt
Last night left to spend apart
Your bags are packed but now for home
Stories of the tour unfold
Booking Agents
Broken Nose
Butting heads with creeping dolts
Georgian Femmes are gone for weeks
Southern Belles in London Sing
Southern Belles in London Sing
05 Erection (02:46)
It's a scene from the movie.
It's an aisle at the store.
It's the view of a canyon.
The sound of a sword.
It's an orchard of peaches.
Your wife in the shower.
While you wait for appointments.
Or as you walk through the park.
Oh. uh oh. Erection.
You know it's not only love dear.
That can flip the switch up.
You know it probably should be.
Maybe god fucked it up.
Oh uh oh. Erection.
It boiled up like a tower.
A monument in the park.
It's the cock of a rifle.
A memory in the dark.
You tried to keep it a secret.
But now the world's gonna know.
You tried for perfection.
But then oh uh oh. erection.
oh uh oh. erection.
06 Paranoiattack (04:17)
The news has got me paranoid,
papers and the news reports,
casualties of every war,
the anchor people keeping score.
The weapons now are chemicals,
in water and in air above,
in circulating envelopes,
in powder through the postal routes.
The threat of a disease is here,
we nipped it once without a cure.
It took forever ‘til it stopped,
through mandatory needle shots.
They gave us all a little dose,
to teach our bodies how to cope,
finally when we had it licked,
some terrorists are back with it.
The propaganda's working now,
I’m falling for it hook and reel,
I’m stocking up on medicine,
buying tape to seal us off in paranoia.
Paranoia (x11)
Paranoiattack,
paranoiawar,
paranoia sinks like a bomb.
Paranoiathreat,
paranoiaffects,
paranoia drops bombs.
Bombs
Paranoia
07 Dropkick the Punks (02:29)
eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sechs, sieben, acht,
visciouscounterpoperosionrevolution101.
drop kick the punks.
we want a change.
blaspheme the pop.
call out the freaks.
pay off the jockeys,
then call the cops.
queue up the news reporting cccccompany trucks.
hoist the antenna – pirate the waves.
dust off the tables and broadcast the plates.
amp the fly trap plant called venus and jab a cold fork in the spppppspeaker.
ah were force fed pop cultures shit.
we’re staying up late thinking “what the fuck is this?”.
eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sechs, sieben, acht,
visciouscounterpoperosionrevolution101.
09 Symptom Finger (03:28)
don't admit you're sick
let your fit body bury it
the faintness that you feel
is nothing permanent
don't buy the sickness on T.V.
you want your health, they want the fee
you see the ads and start to think
"i feel it coming on"
no no target
market television
telepharmavangelism
sympton finger
i'm gonna shut it off
down all the power
i'm a doctor today
i'm curing viewers by thousands
don't admit your sick
let your fit body bury it
the faintness that you feel
is nothing permanent
you open up and let them in
it's nothing conscious what is this
i feel a burning in my eye
it's from the television lights
slow slow it down
wait now decide...
okay i'm gonna shut it off
down all the power
i'm a doctor today
i'm curing viewers by thousands
don't admit your sick
let your fit body bury it
the faintness that you feel
is nothing permanent
you've got to get the shit they sell
the pills that fix the way to feel
now they've shown you what to get
you feel it coming on
low low lowdown
high paid primetime capsule maker
sickness lover
i'm gonna shut it off
down all the power
i'm a doctor today
i'm curing viewers by thousands
10 Birth (03:17)
In the beginning there was semen,
In a deep mouth of flesh,
And the crest I traveled,
On a wave of virile mess.
Through a tunnel of mucus,
And on toward a vault,
With tourists and traffic,
I paced myself.
Not I as my whole self,
Just the half that I had,
Before greeting the rest,
Of my better half.
A connection was made,
Through a shared love of science,
And vows were taken,
A seed was hired.
A cavern of fluid,
Brought shape to my hide,
In the months that remained,
Till the time of my life.
I thrashed for the reason,
Of spilling from the crack,
To the palms of a doctor,
To a towel full of scraps.
My brains wouldn't fit,
Through her organs of sex,
An incision was made,
With a scalpel and mask.
I should have noticed the beauty,
And not how it hurt,
Wet like a cherry,
In a bloodbath of birth.
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