We've been quiet for the past couple of days as we've been out gigging it - That's right, we live the dream, though only as long as your dreams are pretty mundane and average - so haven't had the time to spend 'entertaining' you lot with our musings. On Wednesday we saw CSS. Acres and acres of text have already been devoted to explaining exactly how ace they are so we don't think we really need to add anything to what must surely be received wisdom by now, instead we're going to tell you about their support band. This is Ratatat:
Two things:
- Yes, they do need an extra 'tat' on the end of their name. And
- They're a somewhat hairy band, aren't they?
Don't judge them on that last point though! Many hairy bands have overcome their hirsute disability and come up with some amazing music. We're struggling to think of any at the moment, mind, but we're sure there must be some. And we do realise that if we were to follow the 'hairiness=bad' theory down to it's logical conclusion, the greatest music in the world would be made by
Right Said Fred, so it's an argument we'll leave for another day, but Ratatat, razorphobic or not, do make one hell of an exciting racket. They sound like you wanted
The Klaxons to when you first read about them; a thrilling, dancey, poptastic noise which does, admittedly, occasionally veer off into
Mike Oldfield-esque territory, but such fools errands are generally shortlived and they soon get back to the main job in hand of making us dance like a ragdoll in a washing machine, a sight which is as impressive in description as it is dangerous to behold.
Their MySpace is
here, so why not have a look and get fired up by them yourself. (Fire? Ratatat? Gunfire? No? Oh well, please yourself, then).
Labels: Live, Ratatat
