first, and let me be clear, this album is bad. bad bad. bad then, bad now. had a guy jumped in the middle of 95 dressed in day-glo, smelling of vicks, wearing ironic sunglasses and screaming ACEEEEEED!, i would not have been surprised. just mildly annoyed.
truly, there's a reason that deee-lite fell off the face of the planet in 1991. it's because how much of a career can you sustain on every cliche in the book. infernal piano loops. annoying horn samples. predictable bass. synthesised sounds. and to top it all off, faux french. yeah, 1990, hell of a time and place, i tell you. la da di la di da.
and, of course, it's yet another example of the NME's i hate america/i love america schizophrenia (cf. 'give out but don't give up', primal scream, 1994)... every single thing about this album is the mass consumption (perhaps putting the 'lite' in 'deee-lite') of everything a teenage NME listener thought they knew about detroit acid house. because none of us was there. and that's the scout's honest truth. but i'll give it one tiny piece of credit -- i *did* like the shoes lady miss kier wore in the 'groove is in the heart' video... so i bought a pair of fluevog platforms from eccentricities in 1990... thanks, deee-lite -- those shoes looked great with my orange day-glo top and spirograph inspired stretch pants... ACEEEEEEEEED!
The Grot Bar. Every Night. Ear Worm. The bad kind. The kind that makes you want to pour peroxide in there.
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