Music history is littered with great bands with not-particularly-great names, the Beatles being the most obvious example. Archers of Loaf another one. That is nothing new and probably something you don't need me to waste your time telling you.
The Fag Machine are from Wrexham. As with a lot of others and on the evidence of Formaldehyde, their name tends to push its way to the back of your head and become a little part of the furniture when you're confronted with music. It twists itself around and leaves you questioning yourself. And then on paper, it all looks better.
The Birthday Party had, I have always thought, one of the best band names ever. The Fag Machine slither and writhe in a similar way, shot through with a little more of the AOR slur of Interpol's Paul Banks.
Formaldehyde is abrasive Gothic squall all through. A spider scrawl of baritone and brooding. Unhinged screams and anger. All damn enjoyable, though. Obviously.
For more, watch this, Salt-Lick. Ace.
No comments:
Post a Comment