ARTiST: Dananananaykroyd
ALBUM: Sissy Hits
BiTRATE: 219kbps avg
QUALiTY: EAC Secure Mode / LAME 3.97 Final / -V2 --vbr-new / 44.100Khz
LABEL: Holy Roar
GENRE: Indie
SiZE: 35.99 megs
PLAYTiME: 0h 21min 56sec total
RiP DATE: 2008-06-12
STORE DATE: 2008-00-00
Track List:
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01. The Greater Than Symbol and The 4:46
Hash
02. One After One 3:26
03. Cleaning Each Other 4:47
04. British Knights 3:23
05. 1993 4:44
06. Infinity Milk (Outro Version) 0:50
Release Notes:
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Dananananaykroyd were due to release their debut mini-album in early March. This
has been scuppered by, apparently, a lack of money at Jealous Records. Seeing as
this only happened a few days ago, it seems a little premature to be begging the
band to hear it and writing a glowing review because you're scared that no
labels will go after it and give it the release it deserves. But here we are.
Sissy Hits could be a very important recording, and not just for
Dananananaykroyd. So concentrated and consistent is its brilliance that you
wonder whether they'd be able to keep it up for a whole LPà but we don't have to
think about that until it happens. Even if they did bugger it all up on a
full-length release, we'd all still have this work to appreciate. Their clarity
of musical expression is blinding, but with intricacies that suggest something
far cleverer. This doesn't mean the whole changing time signatures instrumental
wizardry thing, nor does it mean the whole
lyrical-constructs-beyond-comprehension thing either. What it does mean is
utterly delirious, insane fun with subtle touches in each corner to elevate
these already-brilliant songs to a territory clearly marked 'genius'. This
territory is located between other territories clearly marked 'stupidity' and
'ecstasy', obviously. Those are good too.
'The Greater Than Symbol And The Hash' takes delight in its struggle, the
initial double-drummer marching insistency finally giving way to a demented
acceleration and the kind of squealing guitars we haven't seen this convincingly
since Siamese Dream. Vocalist Calum S. Gunn barks amiably about musical
terminology ("dotted lines mean that you repeat it!") over a particularly tight
din, and the overall effect is simple exhilaration. But the struggle, the
struggle. Things reach optimum velocity, those squealing guitars are held,
built, bred with so much percussion and finally released. Things are, you feel,
stretched as far as they might go. But the struggle continues. A solemn hi-hat
beats four and we're dragged by the teeth through a deformed version of earlier
themes while Gunn's head explodes. Finally, finally we can see the end in sight
when the toms are beaten, oarsman-style, slower and slower and slower and slower
and slower, accentuating the off-beats, until we're completely fucking dead.
That's the first song done.
Ha! Obviously it can't continue at such bollocking ferocity, and we kind of calm
down after that. The light pomp of the verses in 'One After One' is a daintily
perfect antidote to the grungy chorus and chant of "WE ARE THE PARTY!", for
example (I think that's what they're shouting). Then we begin to realise all
that stuff about these being astonishingly catchy pop songs. 'Cleaning Each
Other' has a particularly righteous guitar-harmony-led chorus that, for all the
world, is better than any of Thin Lizzy's. Similarly, '1993' is the right side
of funky to retain its rock credentials in some completely, idiotically,
carelessly colossal riffs. Another epic in the vein of the opening 'The Greater
Than Symbolà', this closer (effectively, seeing as the last track is less than a
minute's doodling) shows ample evidence that this band could survive on its
melodies and nothing else. David Roy's carefully widdled guitar lines during the
second section are beautifully played, and flanked by dinky xylophone and vocal
scales. Then it blows your brains off again for a few seconds. After that, the
final doodle, 'Infinity Milk' stomps around and finishes with wild and hilarious
screams. Wicked, thanks. These are the best twenty minutes of music you'll hear
all year, probably.
We could carry on and describe the glumly effervescent humour that pervades each
track, or the idiosyncratic nods to music theory and tour bus larks, but you can
discover those yourself. Treat!
As you, the readers of DiS, are fully aware, comments left after reviews tend to
disagree with the review more often than they agree with it (that might just be
mine). So, conversely, I'm personally appealing to anyone who may disagree with
this review and asking them not to comment. If you agree with it (even if only
partly) then leave a comment saying that you think Dananananaykroyd deserve a
record deal and lots of money so they can take over the world in the most
rocktageous way imaginable. It'll be right good.
Drowned In Sound