Crisis? What crisis?.. Half an hour of NYC smutty bliss with a post-punk stripe.
Ever since the CBGB days, New York has been a fertile ground for non-conformism, yet more often than not artists who sprang from there gave style precedence over substance… unless it was substance of certain kind. This collective’s different, though: defining themselves as purveyors of post-punk, MC take a wider genre sweep but always focus on a tune, a vibe and a vim and don’t lose hold on parochial – in the good sense of the word – air.
The Big Apple atmosphere is smeared all over the group’s performances, so it’s very tongue-in-cheek when “Midnight Somewhere” is trying to place the listener in the middle of urban wilderness, and their seductive rock ‘n’ rolling seems irresistible and inescapable, especially in “Kiss My Apocalipps” with its dirty throb and arresting refrain. There’s also gripping squeal to the salvo of “Take Control” where Marty E’s half-spoken, superficially calm vocals probe and prod a thick wall of sound as if searching for breaches to squeeze catchy choruses in, while LASE’s guitars unfold heavy blues under “(Get Home) Dangerous” and direct the piece’s call-and-response towards dark lure.
Once in the shadow, a scream and sharp riff can feel comfortable, and even though the clang of “Sister Vicodin” may suggest metal, not punk, “Lost & Found” more than makes up for such a sin by booming wildly along funky lines. That’s why fright and desperation which fill “Make It Alright” turn empty echoes into optimistic howl, and cold water into “Bloodbath Wine” whose warm buzz is stricken with sweet synthesizer dance and peppered with percussion to give it all a tribal pull. This album is that transfixing… unless the word “beatings” contains a threat. But the pleasure’s worth the pain.