Polis is Eyes: 06/08/2003 - 06/14/2003

I love rereading. I love texts that ask to be reread.

Will Johnson may be the only rock songwriter ever to use the word eleemosynary (which means charitable), as he does on Centro-matic’s new album, Fort Recovery (Misra). Sung in his hoarse, battered voice, with a backdrop of fuzz-toned guitars, it sounds just as unaffected as his blunter declarations, like, “You are correct, we are wrecked.” Centro-matic is steeped in the feedback-edged trudge of Neil Young’s Crazy Horse, though it also has gentler moments. Either way, it provides a roots-rock grounding for lyrics that can be cryptic or painfully open. In his songs, Mr. Johnson sounds as if he has seen enough troubles to make him wary of everyone—but not enough to make him stop trying to connect.

Concurring w/ migh fren WB:

Golden Boy feat. Miss Kittin: “Rippin Kittin”
I, for one, remember electro, or synth-clash, or tech-neu, fondly. How can you not love a seductive dance song that begins, “Mommy, can I go out and kill tonight?” I guess you wouldn’t like it if you were a protective fan of the Misfits’ “Mommy, Can I Go Out and Kill Tonight?” And I guess you wouldn’t like it if that song reminded you of the lines in The Misfits’ “Last Caress” about mother-assault. (Danzig would complete the trilogy with the jukebox standby “Mother”). Anyway, I like this joint, probably just because it could fit sneakily in a continuous mix between that Kylie Minogue hit about the Star Trek 2 earwig, or that Madonna one from the movie in which she gets sought desperately.