(04.03.05) Out Hud plays a certain variety of space funk, a celestial bastard
offspring of Parliament funk and DIY post-punk ethos that engages both
the ass and the cerebellum. On their introductory offering
S.T.R.E.E.T. D.A.D., they kept matters instrumental — heavy on
the bass and the rhythm section. With Let Us Never Speak of It
Again, they’ve added the coquettish allure of Phyllis Forbes’ and
Molly Schnick’s voices. It’s a hip-twitching sex kitten siren song
that, while reining in several of the tracks to a format that speaks
to conventional song structure, adds an extra sheen to the music,
giving it an extra je ne sais quas that is equal parts
calculated indifference and laconic sultriness.
Fueled by insistent rhythms, Out Hud is a celebration of visceral
intellectualism. “The Song So Good They Named It Thrice” chatters
with percussion while keyboards whizz through soaring 8-bit space
anthems and Molly’s cello is a floating layer of long tones between
the percolating foundation and the zipping analog melodies. The
swagger of “One Life to Leave” is provided by Tyler Pope’s bass, a
hip-tipping rumble that pops beneath Justin Vandervoigen’s jangling
guitar work and the vocals. The monolithically titled “Dear Mr. Bush,
There are over 100 words for shit and only one for music. Fuck You,
Out Hud” brings to mind the sprawling instrumental work of
S.T.R.E.E.T. D.A.D. but highlights the progression of
Vandervoigen’s production: this is, in the end, more pop than prog.
And that is the appeal of Out Hud. They’ve fine-tuned their focus;
they have found an anchor they like. The freshness coming off this
record isn’t their retro-revival of The Tom Tom Club and the 808 drum
machine, but rather their appropriation of this history into the
bouillabaisse of their sound. Infectious, delirious even, but
definitely a sound all their own.
Let Us Never Speak of It Again is out now on Kranky.
