Wall of Voodoo
Dark Continent

THE REVIEW

I can't speak badly of the Wall Of Voodoo.

They've been family friends for as long as I can remember.

I've seen them grow up and kick the ball during the childhood of "The Index Masters."

And when they grew up, around the time of "Call Of The West," I was happy for them, without any envy.

The surprise was strong when Stan Ridgway left the house, slamming the door.

The pain of the separation was immediately swept away by the joy for "The Big Heat," but the feeling remained that certain decisions are too private to be judged.

Therefore, don't criticize me if I'll turn a blind eye to a restless adolescence like that of "Dark Continent", composed, as for everyone, of epic and pathetic moments, false certainties, and imaginary insecurities.

The first thing anyone who doesn't know Wall Of Voodoo notices is Ridgway's duck-like voice, the second are the keyboards of Grey & Moreland, both vintage and modern at the same time.

Wall Of Voodoo are the Depeche Mode catapulted into a Sergio Leone film, with a Morricone soundtrack, of course.

Wall Of Voodoo are D.A.F. dirty with sand. Johnny Cash acting in "Terminator." The Suicide, if they had only been human.

Their charisma is proverbial, making them loved by punks, wavers, dark fans with a sense of humor, and even some Dire Straits fans looking for intense sensations.

"Red Light", "Animal Day", "Call Box (1-2-3)", and "Good Times" are the evidence of the perfection that was soon to come, "Full Of Tension" is simply a classic.

The other songs can be simply listened to but sound as familiar to my ears as "White Christmas" does to yours.

I know, I'm biased, but you don't be shy: give Wall Of Voodoo a chance if you want to know what it feels like to be survivors after the apocalypse.

End credits: Wall Of Voodoo, "Dark Continent", 1981, IRS, produced by Jim Hill, Paul McKenna & Wall Of Voodoo.