It’s becoming increasingly difficult to remain impartisan when reviewing Bearsuit’s wares. I’ll start by saying I love this album even though it’s the aural equivalent of catching someone pissing up your front door. This album is a collection of willfully obtuse electronic punk songs with a dash of rave and a dash of grindcore thrown into the mix to scare and confuse you. It would also be fair to mention that a healthy element of this album is cut and paste art school joke telling with a smidgen of laughing at conventional music behind its back just for fun.
If you’re a fan of Fantomas’ “Suspended Animation” or any other conspicuously intellectual music that sets its mission parameters as scaring away as many people as possible, then feast upon such wondrous, decayed delights as “The Viennese Opera Ball which sounds like something that should play to an empty cinema an hour after the last audience member has left a viewing of the Shining. Or maybe that’s a bit mainstream and you’d prefer the sound of Mrs. Mills being remixed by Slade while under assault from a cat with a power tool (“Flash Bang Whinney”).
I’m deliberately underselling this album to you because I don’t really want to share it with anyone. Why ? Because in between all the chatter and the noises and the slapstick there are some brilliant moments of music, both technically and spiritually. The funereal drums of “John Lennon vs The Martians” that morphs into morse code SOS funk before having a total nervous breakdown and chucking a Haircut 100 sample at you before going back into a sulk. It’s all so difficult to describe, but take my word for it, like pretty much everything over at Bearsuit this album is a winner in every conceivable way.