FUCK BUTTONS- Tarot Sport

Sure, there’s always going to be a nagging feeling that this is all one big joke. A silly, giggling, desperately arty, music hack’s wet dream of a joke that’s about as subtle as a lead pipe to the brain. With a stupid name. But there’s just no discounting the industrial soundtrack chug of ‘Rough Steez’, sidestepping the seismic yet sparkling shifts of ‘The Lisbon Maru, or stifling your subconscious from painting images along to the wails, walls and waves of noise of ‘Olympians’. And if you can ignore the euphoric, cinematic scope of opener ‘Surf Solar’, you’re probably deaf. Or very very dull. That a few of these tracks go past the ten-minute mark but never feel fat or tired is a feat all of its own too, but when all you want is for them to go on longer, reach further, and push harder, you’re on very rare territory indeed. This isn’t just a great record then, one that renders the Fuck Buttons debut pretty much redundant, but a grand one- a post-everything dance epic meant to make your mouth water and your mind wander and your heart soar. And if you still don’t get that as ‘Flight Of The Feathered Serpent’ crashes to a close then you never will. Wonderful.