Search - Prolapse :: Pointless Walks to Dismal Places

All bow down to King Mick and Queen Linda

Michael Edward May | St. Cloud, MN | 06/05/2000

(5 out of 5 stars)

"This album deserves more recognition than it is getting. Only one review so far? I think this is Prolapse's best work, and someone else must agree with me. Although it is extremely hard to pick an absolute favorite, as all of their albums, except Backsaturday, are incredible albums and all in intense competition to be Prolapse's best work among all their masterpieces. But I would have to pick this as the most consistently great album which I would listen to in its entirety more frequently than the others. Somehow, although being their first album, it actually seems more focused than their next album Backsaturday, and they have a grip on their sound here. Serpico starts it off with a bang, with a very prominent bassline, and the song just keeps building up tension until it boils over and Mick Derick rants and raves over murderous rhythym and Linda Steelyard's angelic voice, which somehow works perfectly. The next song is more ranting and raving, but this time twice the intensity as both singers frantically scream over an drone you may think you heard somewhere on a Sonic Youth album. Surreal Madrid is a more atmospheric piece, with Derrick condemning a crooked politician over a rock solid background while the music occasionally swells behind him for dramatic effect. The next track shows off their melodic side as Derrick and Steelyard engage in a lovely call-and-response over a rhythym section that alternates between pleasantly grooving (well, by their standards) and frantically thrashing. Burgundy Spine is a bit of a cool-down number, with some beatiful guitar work interwoven with the two singers mumbling random thoughts while the atmospheric music carries you away and you also drift off into the singers' dream-like state. Black Death Ambulance is back to the melodic anarchy, as the band sets up a sort-of dancey vibe before pulling together to maul you for the chorus and Steelyard tries to find her way out from under the wreckage that the music leaves behind with her angelic voice again hovering above the proceedings. Then is Hungarian Death Song, which is the more abstract song on the record, with an answering machine message set over an atonal guitar riff and lazy rhythyms. Then is the beautiful slowburning Linda Steelyard centerpice Chill Blown, where she coos and murmurs like Kim Gordon in an introspective mood over a repeated chord progression that you've propably heard before, but not quite like this. Chill Blown describes the music too, as it starts out cold and builds up the tempo until it becomes red-hot and stays there as you are drawn into the majestic washes of sound and the overall eroticism of the whole affair. Then the album closes off by letting the aggression and intensity that is a mainstay through all the album explode in a huge finale as the two vocalists, who were engaged in a few mini-feuds throughout the album, let it all come out and just rip into each other, and the results are an inriguing bit of anarchy and you actually begin to visualize them swinging madly at each other and throwing chairs, and the whole thing is altogether too enjoyable. That is the rundown of the whole album. It is quite an experience and would be a great place to start when looking to begin a Prolapse collection, as it shows most of their strengths very well, and they only begin to expand and improve from here, but this album will please you as well as leave you interested to hear more. Buy it now and you'll wonder why you've never heard of Prolapse before. I belive they are the best thing in indie rock right now."