Thursday 3 July 2014

Candy Darling - Money

Single review by

What is cool? What makes cool? Why can someone wear one thing and turn every head in the street? And others wear it and look like skinny-legged chickens who look like they fell out of a bad Brat Pack movie scene. Then really, who gives a fuck? If you do, then you will never achieve your narcissistic goal. There are bands who just have it; with whom it seeps out of every pore. Who leave it on everything they touch like Midas on speed and gin. Then there are always the try-hards, the nearly-theres. There are even those bands who capture it, then stumble and fall at the last minute (any Razorlight reference in this context is purely a mistake of searching for too much alliteration). To repeat myself, when the music is as good, as damn good as Bristol's Candy Darling, then who gives a fuck?

Candy Darling's 'Money' is such an addictive hit of scuzzed-up, freaked-up, twisted perfect noise that it will be this 'Money' that we will all sell our souls for; and our dogs, cats and kimono dragons. It draws first blood with 10-inch heels straight out of late '70s New York. In its metronomic keys there are nods to Suicide, then it whips you across the back with vocals that are the offspring of Karen O and Royal Trux/Black Bananas' Jennifer Herrema. They drip equally with menace and seduction that buries into your primal carnal core. Then we are hit with the final piece of this S&M beast of glory, that of the most perfect fuzzed-up guitar since Jon Spencer howled with his bride in Pussy Galore. 'Money' has you on the first dark spin. By the third you are mainlining it into your frontal lobes and praying that Candy Darling don't keep us waiting too long for more. Already need more...

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