If ever anyone wanted to clean ALL THE THINGS in a house, including even such items as the lawn outside the house, sometimes you just want some wholesome lyrical accompaniment with beats beats beats beats--and a touch of historicity to make it all uncomfortable in the British "posh" upper-class way.
You know?
These men. Fit the bill, Holmes.
"Antsy" in a grimy outdoor area, packed to the gills with burly and aggro "low class" types, suddenly concerned about one's "veddy veddy" poorly pronounced vowels and consonants--all because one's "PRIVILEGE" is showing in the mouth! Next thing you know, Cockney runts in leathers with iron in the blood want your BUM.
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I admit that this "showy" aspect of the band has given me the jeeber-willies, in the past.
In my defense, though, who knew these dudes were gay in the homosexual sense prior to their big public mention of it in the wake of 1993's Very (that's an album) release and promotion?
I thought it was Depeche Mode who were.
I mean come on. French name.
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Anyhow. Good tunes.
Peppy beats. Sometimes a real SLAMMER for your DANCE-ASS, buddy!
And soaring all over the fucking wheres: this thin, reedy, high, posh, voice with a wonderway of simplicity to it. With a melody to boot, AND arguably the first #1 hit rapper from Britain since Blondie did it just a pip prior. "Pipped to the post" as they say.
These two, openly, confessedly GAY MEN are basically the he-hunk version of Australia's Sia Furler on 'roids.
Enjoy.
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