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Rating: Throw together Depeche, Joy Division, and Duran and you have White Rose Movement from England: now, I'm not saying that the new band is on the same level as the previous three bands (which I adore and definitely don't want to be sacrilegious), but the group knows what it's doing: they say they worked as painters to pay for the album, and you can hear it even on the synth; the band was a supporter of the Placebo for a while.
The first 3 initial songs "Kick", "Girls in back" and "Love is a number" seem to confirm that the band knows how to mix punk and glam and make the guitar and electronics clash and jump on us with the bass and make us all dance again. It suggests that something good is still coming from the U.K. after Placebo & Muse have lost themselves in repetition... plus, the singer has a bit of a cheeky voice which I like...
"Alsatian", "London's mine", and "Idiot crugs" are perhaps a bit repetitive, sure the music is beautiful, but I've already heard it in my new wave idols; however, they still manage to be quite edgy, thanks to the voice of the singer Finn Vine, but sometimes someone needs to dust off the silverware at the new wave house... "Deborah Carne" seems to want to imitate Duran too much, but it's a too difficult game, while "Test card girl" proves to be something good in having studied the lesson and then adding their originality.
As I repeat, it's not a miracle, but certainly something pleasant, especially for the singer's vocality; let's hope they don't turn out to be the usual U.K. enfant prodigy of recent years who ends up repeating themselves or bowing down to commerce...
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
04 Alsatian (04:35)
Kill, comfort kill
I'm infidel
A simple sound
A scream to the sky
Slam, sacharine Sam
Pushing my pram
With your harlequin words
You turned and said
"Sicko psycophants"
With a poisonous rant
And a requiem of fear
The guns and teeth
Of London streets
Come on!
C-c-come on!
(Ohh) Kill, comfort kill
I'm infidel
All the fireworks
Explode in the sky
Slam,sacharine Sam
Pushing my pram
With your harlequin words
You run in the dark
Cos it makes you feel free
And the wind cuts your face
Cos you wanna believe (x4)
That out there something is real
The elixir of life
He licks down a knife
To her wet apperture
To her wet apperture
(Yaw!)
Kill, comfort kill
I'm infidel
Give me fireworks
Explode in the sky
Slam, Fashion-Cazam
Pushing my pram
Turning the wheel too fast
They're all Sicko psycophants
With elastic banks
Kiss me with the kiss of death
Tell me I'm an individual boy
Come on! (Come on!)
You run in the dark
Cos it makes you feel free
And the wind cuts your face
Cos you wanna believe (x4)
Out there something is real
Put your dog on a leash (x4)
(This is pure)
Just keep that man
Away from me
And keep that sound
Away from me
With your surgical tears
That callous me in
And when the people say
"Your better out than in"
Coz your mouth is undone (x7)
But your blood is alive (x17)
07 Idiot Drugs (03:34)
What's the point at all?
Paint a castle
Paint a castle
I wanna exit, exit this
I'm threshing with a metal stick
What I did I did for simia
Blah, blah, blah on the idiot drugs
What I did I did for simia
Blah, blah, blah on the idiot drugs
I waited in the shallow safe
Yeah on the lips of atlantic breaks
You wait and wait but never say never (never)
Blah, blah, blah on the idiot drugs
Crass synth beauty with a shyness so obscene
Throwaway girl an indespensible machine
Crass synth beauty with a shyness so obscene
Throwaway girl an indespensible machine
Crass synth beauty with a shyness so obscen
Throwaway girl an indespensible machine
Blah, blah, blah on the idiot drugs
Some say, some say
I've gone the wrong way
But I suspect
Sitting in the back
Traversing through these grey veins
I'll find my bodhisattva
I'll find my bodhisattva (talk)
I'll find my bodhisattva (talk)
I'll find my bodhisattva (talk)
I'll find my bodhisattva (talk)
I'll find my bodhisattva
Right now
08 Deborah Carne (03:14)
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
Eyes are smoke on wheels
Four sick of sin
Deborah Carne had always
Played the perfect queen
Taking her time they tell us
I wasn't there
Hollinshead, last only
Wooud and Bauer share
Ooooooh
Deborah Carne
I can't touch
The heal's too much
i'm fighting flames with flares
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
(This is how it goes)
Cries because it's real
To make her the fool
Driving her to a layby
Bathes the girl in fuel
Keeps her on the phone
She won't see it come
Passer by don't catch her eye
Just leave her on her own
Oooooooh
Deborah Carne
I can't touch
The heal's too much
I'm fighting flames with flares
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
Deborah Carne
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