17 Let's Go Eat the Factory

    

Introduction

We are edging ever closer to the albums that I haven't, as yet, listened to. But we still have four to go, so this is still one that has been part my evolving whole-album / sequences of LPs rotations. However, as it's close to the end of where I've got up to, it's not one that I've listened to extensively before doing this post.

I have made a point of not doing any research as to the context of any of these releases. For now, I am focusing on listening to them with a 'pure' focus-on-the-music-only approach. That said, I can't help but notice that - after seventeen years of at least an album every two years - there's an eight year gap between Let's Go Eat the Factory and Half Smiles Of The Decomposed. I'm sure there's a bit of a story there...

The Album

Unthinkable / undrinkable

What's immediately apparent is that Let's Go Eat the Factory is a significant departure from the sound of (most of) the late 90s - early 2000s LPs. Whereas they had a generally fairly consistent, almost uniform approach, there's a much wider variety of styles and textures on LGETF. 

The only track that would be an obvious fit on the previous few albums is 'The Unsinkable Fats Domino'. I'm no expert on Fats, although I do know that he had a lengthy career; I'm not sure to what extent he was 'unsinkable' though. The use of, for example, 'unthinkable' / 'undrinkable' give the lyric a little bit of a 'rhyming dictionary' feel, but this doesn't particularly detract from the easy-going charm of this pleasantly energetic, poppy number.

The other highlights are less straightforwardly accessible. We're not exactly back in Bee Thousand / Alien Lanes territory, but there's an exciting edginess to the abrasive blast of 'Laundry & Lasers' and 'God Loves Us'. 'We Won't Apologize For The Human Race' is a disconcerting swamp of psych-prog reverberations and dystopian imagery.

Mystery decapitation

Several tracks are framed around circular, primitive garage rock riffs and have the feel of a fairly simple idea being thrown around enthusiastically to good effect. 'The Head' is enlivened by forceful stabs of organ and has (as most of these tracks do) a relatively minimal lyric - in this case, on the subject of a mystery decapitation. 'Either Nelson' is an abandoned, urgent swirl with a touch of free jazz about it; 'Cyclone Utilities (Remember Your Birthday)' mainly consists of a simple two-chord riff with an occasional bluesy lick thrown in, overlaid with an oddly dispassionate, almost robotic vocal that seems to ponder the impact of the internet ('Oceans of programs in a very useful age / more ways of getting your ideas across / not every voice needs to be heard'). 'How I Met My Mother' is a snappy back-to-basics verse-chorus-we're-done that packs a whole heap of melody and attitude into 62 seconds.

'Imperial Racehorsing' is another that's (at least initially) based around a simple motif - in this case a heavily delayed riff that's a little reminiscent of The Smiths' 'How Soon Is Now'. It is more expansive though, moving into a thoughtful interlude interspersed with bursts of 60s psychedelia style horns before evolving into a hypnotic groove that features some urgently groovy guitar soloing.   

Twee mode / peppered with experimental moments

At times, the album switches into a lighter, almost twee mode. 'Chocolate Boy' has an irresistible charm; a sweet bit of ragged whimsy that stumbles along amiably, although it's a little weighed down by the syrupy synth/strings. 'Doughnut For A Snowman' is similarly charming, its off-kilter rhythm just about saving it from being overly saccharine. There is, however, a bit of a twee overdose with 'Who Invented The Sun', which is altogether too fey and flimsy for me.

Unlike most of the last few albums, LGETF is peppered with experimental moments, such as the creepy, fractured Beefheart-esque blues of 'The Big Hat And Toy Show' and the ambient post-rock of 'The Things That Never Need'. 'Go Rolling Home' and 'The Room Taking Shape' are brittle, acoustic snippets that would have been right at home on Vampire On Titus.

Nick Cave is the lead singer of ELO

It's a mark of the album's variety and ambition that we are left with several hard-to-categorise tracks. 'Spiderfighter' opens with an urgent, twangy riff before evolving into a plaintive, romantic piano ballad. The spooky, portentous 'Hang Mr. Kite' imagines a world where Nick Cave is the lead singer of ELO. 'Waves' is a dreamy shoegaze blur; 'My Europa' a brittle, earnest meditation. 'Old Bones' takes the melody from 'Auld Lang Syne' and mangles it into a strangely touching, otherworldly anthem.

In Conclusion...

It's an oddly disjointed album. It never settles into a distinctive style like, say, Isolation Drills or Under The Bushes. But whilst it does have its fair share of experimental interludes and stylistic digressions, it doesn't quite have the creative spark of the mid-90s LPs. There's lots to enjoy, as ever, but it doesn't quite hang together into a coherent whole.

Added to the 'GBV Favourites' playlist: 

Only four make it, although there were quite a few that were close...

• Laundry & Lasers
• God Loves Us
• The Unsinkable Fats Domino
• We Won't Apologize For The Human Race

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