A personal blast at the wider world.
David McGuire 2007-11-09
Back when ginger beards were all the rage and the term ‘Viking’ didn’t make people think of insurance, Denmark was a pretty aggressive and unruly place to be. Now, in the age of the European Union and the thong, The Raveonettes are helping to cement the kingdom's reputation as a harmonic and sensual place by preaching in stripped-down harmonies and echoed, undiluted guitar bytes.
At first glance, Lust Lust Lust is a fitting moniker. In replace of ginger facial hair is flowing blonde locks (Sharin Foo) and a short dark barnet under a gangster-esque hat (Sune Rose Wagner). The cover is enhanced with a 3-D feature which would have been considered the height of visual technology in the 1980s. But what about the music? The album opener "The Beat Dies" is heart wrenching and an eerily festive ballad that sets the bar of expectation for the rest.
The distinction of this album lies in the consistency of its pace. Pretty much every song on Lust Lust Lust seems to have been written with effortless grace as if they’ve just fit in song writing between their schedule of going for pleasant walks and drinking herbal tea with the neighbours.
However, beneath the relaxed façade lies a complex creature of discontent. "Sad Transmission" speaks of heartache in-between a juxtaposition of fuzzy distortion and up-beat bass chords. Similarly, "Dead Sound" calls out against ambition: 'that will never get you far, Dead Sound, Dead Sound!' in that familiar sketchy tone.
Lust Lust Lust is not mind-blowing, it's a personal blast at the wider world. But perhaps more aggression is needed to be a cut above.