If Punk had worn a condom when it screwed Death back in the 70's, the Bastard Child of Goth wouldn't have been born when it was, and future generations of music appreciators would have traced the roots of Gothic Music back to Minneapolis, and the band Revolver Modele, who would have appeared 'a priori', without previous influence. This fact is overlooked by many other reviewers who can't seem to listen to Revolver Modele without imposing influences, and drawing comparisons to other bands because they are too (A: drunk B: high C: lazy D: all of the above) to write an original review. ('INXS? Um, they are like Cheap Trick, only, um, Newer.' 'Jethro Tull? Um, they are like Pink Floyd, only more so.')

It was a dark and stormy night when local fashion maven, Anna Lee suggested Revolver Modele to me, and I stumbled down to 'The Kitty Kat Club' for a look-see. I was not prepared for the lead singer (Ehsan) to become possessed by demons and begin thrashing around on the stage. The only hint that he still held onto a small piece of his humanity was the fact that he was able to continue singing, and keep the microphone near-enough to his mouth so we could all hear it. When he rolled off the stage and dropped, crashing to the dancefloor in an indeterminate spasming heap, no one rushed forward to help. The band played on; Mikal (guitar) climbed up onto things and jumped off them, all whilst playing guitar, his actions as dangerous as his guitar work. Jesse (drums) belted out clockwork timing, oblivious to the impending threat of being landed upon, and Natasha (bass) simply watched with all the non-enthusiasm of your cat watching you have sex.

It was then that I realized, even though Ehsan's body had now become a marionette for other-worldly forces to control, even though a portal to Lovecraft's 'Ancient Ones' had certainly been opened, even though myself and everyone else should flee in terror, we could not leave. Because through the portal came music.

The music was awesome.

Thankfully, they were able to capture that music on their latest release, 'Discotheque Crypt'. Amazingly deep sound for such a small group (Guitar, bass, drum, vox) and Ehsan has an amazingly deep voice for such a slim body. Mikal does a fantastic job of switching between rhythm and lead guitar, and from flat-out-distortion to crystalline ethereal echoes to undead silence. Natasha (AKA: The Nun) bottoms-out the songs with clean, prominent and punctual basswork, and a beautiful, catlike stare. (I am fairly certain that she does not ever blink. Or smile.) Jesse holds the songs together with all the tight timing of a Swiss Swatch, and calls attention to his drumming by Not calling attention to his drumming.

The lyrics actually make for good reading and are as meaningful as you make them; a kind of Rorschach Lyrics Test, to see what you read into them. And you will probably have to read the lyrics to distinguish some of them; the vocals on Discotheque Crypt are intentionally thick, and syrupy as if they were drowned in old blood. The feeling roller-coasters between deeply emotional and deeply emotionless, often within the same song.

You might hear Les Diaboliques if you listen to 'cool' radio stations, and you certainly should request Revolver Modele at request@radiok.org (770 Radio K, for you whipper-snappers) and 893dj@mpr.org (89.3 Current, for you old folks) For those of you who decided that anything New is also Bad, and glued your radio to 104JACK(off) a little Revolver Modele might be just the cure for you, and restore your faith in local music.

It's hard for me to pick a favorite, I tend to listen to the album in it's entirity, much like a concept album, but I will admit that 'Les Diaboliques' and 'Body Without Organs' tend to make me drive way too fast, and it is almost impossible to sit still during 'Deca-Dance' without tapping some part of your body against something else.

So if you fire up Revolver Modele at home on some dark and stormy night, and Cthulhu suddenly possesses your cat, which falls to the floor, spasming, gargling and pawing at the air uncontrollably, just laugh and tell it 'thats what you get for staring at me while I'm having sex.'

Blog on,
-CZ

Labels: music reviews, Ubercool