The Truth is both relevant and rebellious, as well as rollicking good fun.
Paul Sullivan 2008-03-12
Naming your artistic alter ego after a greasy, stub-toothed character from Wild At Heart – even if he is played disturbingly well by Willem Dafoe – doesn't seem like the surest route to success. Yet wiry Leeds legend Paul Woolford has proved it's not so much the name as what the name represents, and what Bobby Peru means to most clubbers is a hip-thrustingly good time. The Truth, Woolie's second album as Peru, arrives five years on from the acclaimed debut, Death Of A Player, and has been heralded by the phenomenally successful 2006 single, Erotic Discourse. Given the lengthy hiatus between the two albums, it's not surprising that there are stylistic and sonic differences, but there are plenty to render them kindred spirits too - namely an irrefutable, restless energy and a contagious confidence.
The loose-limbed space invader funk of the opening title track shows us immediately that Woolford, whose career and rep have come on leaps and bounds in the last couple of years, is in a good position place to not only celebrate the current club zeitgeist, but perhaps to define it. The tune's stabbing synths, bristling bassline and pounding drums create a heady atmosphere that's immediately continued on Throb, a deep, pulsing electronic workout with the kind of industrial edge that LFO would put their name to. In fact you can easily imagine big room, acid-drenched tunes like Scandal and Anatomy Of Desire, and even the stuttering Radioactive being dropped to adoring crowds at We Love Space in Ibiza (one of Woolie's current residencies), underlining the link between 1989 acid house and 2008 electro house mayhem.
Though it's mostly comprised of these kinds of belligerent, party-hard tracks, the album is broken up with mood pieces like the short but incisive Shibboleth (inspired by artist Doris Salcedo's London Tate exhibition) and Emotional Violence, as well as rolling, electronic, funk nuggets such as Once Bitten.
The energy of the album doesn't peter out; instead it manages a fittingly searing denouement with a Green Velvet edit of Erotic Discourse. The innovative detail scattered throughout the production, cleverly contrasted undercurrents of nostalgia and futurism, and the sheer conviction of Woolie's party spirit make The Truth both relevant and rebellious, as well as rollicking good fun.