vantage point by deus

huzzah.  it’s only taken fourteen years but there’s a new deus album that’s actually alright.  glowing endorsement or what, huh?  

first things first.  way back when in nineteen ninety four they released worst case scenario which managed to combine captain beefheart’s more straightforward growly madness with the velvet underground’s weird pop and the distorto-bombast of what they used to call alt-rock.  it was a cracker of a record – all skewed and crunchy and warm and sad.  i like it.  a lot.  it whispered sweet sensual promises into my ear…

… and ultimately drifted slowly away like a parting lover, leaving me feeling used and soiled.  yeah.  so they followed worst case scenario with a series of respected but occasionally colourless albums that seemed to gradually water down the abstractions and noise in favour of a more wholesome (bog)standard? ‘indie’ feel.  they all had moments but for me were lacking somewhat.  they took some time off (which in portishead terms was about five minutes) to pursue individual interests and came back with pocket revolution which sounded like a band staggering back to their feet.  i feared the worst to be honest.  for all the talk of mingus and zappa they were becoming yawnsome.

so it came as something of a surprise when hearing vantage point that bitter tears of frustration did not immediately follow.  in fact i felt a cheeky grin creep across my gnarled features.  it’s not that it’s spectacular return to form (© david bowie) but it is very listenable.  it’s about as straightforward and mainstream (whatever that means these days) a record as they’ve released.  not quite rem territory but not exactly trout mask replica either.  it sounds all very clean and polished and a bit american, which isn’t a criticism.  it has the feeling of a ‘band’ record instead of a bunch of people pulling in different directions, which might well be a criticism.       

when she comes down kicks things off and initially, worryingly, gratingly, sounds a bit u2-ish but it gets good if you hang in there.  tom barman does a kind of wonderful half-arse rap through the verse.  it’s all brooding and widescreen and cinematic – all the musical clichés used to describe something big and grand ie a bit springsteen, a bit guitary radiohead, a bit stadium.  but not quite.     

they rock out almost politely on oh your god.  not as rough and ready as lets get lost or hotel lounge but it’s rock none the less. 

the guitars are a bit too heavily processed for my liking.  if for some odd reason i had to describe it in one word (some kind of sinister situationist/terrorist scenario perhaps) it’d be anthemic.  and if that makes it sound all manic street preachersey or elbowey, well unfortunately it is.  guy garvey pops up later singing on the vanishing of maria schneider.  it sounds like an elbow song and i just can’t fathom the appeal of elbow.  i can’t differentiate between them and all those other plodding indies.  i’m sure it’s the same band and they just swap beards and rumpled clothes for their appearances on jools holland.  hey ho.

what proves much more interesting is when they wriggle out of these paint by numbers stylings and get down to some proggy krauty rumblings.  the architect, is a robot and slow (featuring karin dreijer andersson from the knife) manage in fifteen minutes to justify the shiny new pennies used to purchase this shiny new disc.  cramming in electronics, beats, loops, samples, chugging propulsive bass and some danceable punk-funk – perhaps a continuing ripple from tom barmans’ foray into the electronic world with magnus.  it sounds like they’ve tried to cram a whole album into these three songs.  and this would be an album i’d do more than kind-of recommend.  these beasts are best played loud and i’d imagine sound spectacular live.  these beasts groove, and frankly i’m not ashamed to use the word groove.   alan gevaert‘s bass is terrific throughout.  in fact it’s the rhythm and percussion that really shine.  so a big up to stéphane misseghers on drums.  big up?  really? 

slow:

so there you have it.  a record of almost two halves.  one continuing to meander down the almost blah strummy folky road.  the other weaving wildly along an altogether more satisfying but dangerous path.

band / purchase