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UNCLE NEMESIS CD REVIEW. NEMESIS TO GO 7

QuiDaM Pull The Strings (Self release)

They come from Barcelona, but they inhabit their own planet. Quidam deal in energetic melodramas, driven along by nervy, needlepoint guitar, punctuated by rolling waves of electric organ and drifting synths, the tight but agile drums keeping it together while the bass scampers nimbly forward. Over these adroit musical intersections, vocalist Aina sets up a yelping clamour, her voice swooping and dipping like a scary Nina Hagen (and, let's face it, Nina Hagen is fairly scary to start with). The music always moves, moves, moves - rolling and tumbling, shifting and pushing, sticking its elbows out and pointing in odd directions as it goes, but never letting go of a sense of flow.

In a way, Quidam are like a less angular, more organic (you could almost say more operatic) Electricity In Our Homes, but for all their odd pointy-finger directions Quidam never stop shoving things forward. 'Fixed Her Head Into A Wall' has odd interruptions - where the music just stops - but then the song kicks back in again as if nothing has happened, and off it surges, the piano tinkling splendidly, the vocal an urgent tirade about - well, I don't know. The song could be a bit of DIY advice for all I can gather, but Aina is certainly intense about it. 'Bichos' has an almost sixties coffee-bar organ sound poking away behind that acute guitar, while in the middle of the vocal Ania delivers a wonderful, theatrical laugh, as if she's the wicked queen surveying her stock of poisoned apples. 'Point Blank Shot' starts off as something of a slow-burner, the drums syncopating, the synths painting steady brushstrokes - but that Quidam energy is still bubbling under the surface, and the vocal still leaps about, as irrepressible as the band itself.

Oh ma guarda chi si rivede! I Quidam erano una delle band più piacevoli che, seguendo la strada tracciata dal successo dei Cinema Strange, ricalcavano le orme del Deathrock nei primi anni del nuovo millennio. Ora che la decade sta per finire, tornano con un nuovo album, e il piacere dell'ascolto rimane invariato. Già dall'opener You Don't Know Where You've Got Yourself Into le carte sono in tavola. Voce malata e sgraziata di scuola Dinah Cancer, sezione ritmica ipnotica, chitarre distorte e tastiere accennate. Lo schema si ripete pressochè per tutto il disco, peccando forse di eccessiva staticità, ma alla fine non è l'originalità che si chiede a cd come questo. Cinquanta minuti di Deathrock accennato con un occhio dritto ai 45 Grave e niente di più. Nè troppo malato, nè troppo "a manetta", nè troppo vizioso. Ma piacevole. Se passate per la Spagna e vi fermate a Barcellona, chiedete di loro. Se suonano da qualche parte, incendieranno le vostre serate, garantito! Ah, il cd è disponibile per 4 euro (si, QUATTRO...un pacchetto di sigarette o una birra...) tramite il loro sito ufficiale. Ma se siete purciari, potete anche scaricarlo gratuitamente. E voi non siete purciari, no?...

Max1334

Po blisko trzech latach od wydania ostatniej jak dotad plyty, hiszpanska zaloga Quidam powraca z nowym albumem, zatytulowanym "Pull The Strings". Na krazku znajduje sie dwanascie kompozycji, przesiaknietych pokreconym klimatem rodem z klubu batcave i deathrockowym jazgotem wzbogaconym o makabre i turpizm zaserwowany w najlepszym, mistrzowskim hiszpanskim stylu. Damski pokrecony, schizofreniczny wokal, surowizna, okraszona z rzadka klawiszami rodem z "najstraszniejszych" filmów lat 50', to naprawde moze sie podobac. Na plycie odnajdziemy wiele ciekawych smaczków, jakich? Przekonajcie sie sami przesluchujac próbek materialu pochodzacego z nowej plyty Quidam na oficjalnym profilu MySpace zespolu.

Some bands can make the leap, where the initial good impression naturally leaves you expecting something very good, but then they take you by surprise with smoother developments which enhance their creations and extend their capabilities and here is one such band with one such delectable record. Still a bit awkward, as that’s part of their nature, but quite dazzling, in a very intrinsic, discreet way. It’s a Post-Deathrock purr, in an all sorts of weapons hidden behind their way back kinda way.

‘You Don’t Know Where You’ve Got Yourself Into’ stars so burly and confidently casual, the bass nicely sneery behind the shivery guitar and some brilliant synth pushes and nudges you before the sharp vocals start to flail, and the synth is there to restore little bursts of balance throughout and when it feels like it the guitar slithers beneath the increasing bass and they also canter ahead capriciously. It’s a lovely song disguised to be a little messy and unhinged.

‘Fixed Her Head Into A Wall’ has a similarly punky glee working at its heart but around the essentially demented core the music weaves more attractive designs than before. While the vocals are like that of a drunken cockatoo the synth and guitar are all catwalk slinky and devious. ‘El Ultimo Suspiro’ is even jollier, like a mid-paced rollercoaster and as catchy a piece of madness as you could possibly desire. ‘Niemandsland’ gurgles over more gentle guitar buffeting, like it’s skating in crazed circles, with more diminutive keyboards and drum lacing the decorative effect and if you think I’ve included too many references to some kind of mania, that’s down to the vocal delivery which is a younger high pitched descendant of Nina Hagen.

Things are calmer during the deliciously loping ‘Disgraceful’, a nicely piped chorus peaking over the itchy guitar undulations, and having slightly less out-there vocals makes it a more sumptuous experience. ‘Set Aside’ does a jangly gangly thing instead, the guitar fidgeting, the vocals keeping controlled despite busting with energy, following the fragrant melodic vagaries of the song and creating another luscious explosive device. ‘Bichos’ sees vocals cackle and gyrate as the music sways, apart from as tiny guitar excursion and synth staircase, all of which keeps you happy.

‘Where The Noisy Crash Left All Behind’ is even prettier still, the keyboards hazy, bass supine, the tone one of idling splendour, relaxed and relishing sprawling around in softer confines, before they up and crash about angrily, but the music enthrals. ‘Stand Me Up’ is a wiggly punk gem, sparkling like a mini carousel with twirling drums and streaming along with a cocky spirit. A choppy ‘Point Blank Shot’ retreats momentarily into soft shadows and pot holes than tales on an interested agitated shape, just as the increasingly bloody ‘A La Deriva’ has a bewitching, enigmatic journey to drag us along, before an understandably mental ‘Bichos Remix’

It’s also beautifully produced, cleanly delivering its cargo of intense grot and insidious brilliance. The only drawback I can see is that some people might the vocal style a touch abrasive but you soon get used to it, and anyone, maybe your ears need toughening up?

A genuine triumph.