Two kings of the indie dancefloor unite for a warm, timeless take on 20th century pop and rock
London Camden Falcon
The man leans over to the clockwork bear and kisses it sweetly on its cheek, then brings it up to the mic and sings a duet with it...
Fonda 500 are so wrong, they're brilliantly right. Half the songs feel like they've been written on a bet you know, 'I dare you to write a tune that takes in human beat-boxing, squonky keyboard wibbles and gonzo thrash-punk segues'. And Fonda 500, not being the type to double-dare you back, not only go ahead and do exactly that, but they make it an ultra-melodic gem that gets lodged in your skull and JUST WON'T BUDGE!!!
So, we get '8 Track', a shout!shout!shout! shake'n'shimmy paean to crude home-recording techniques, and we get 'Betamax', wriggly brilliance squashed into the pop song format like joke-shop snakes in a can. And we get absolutely nish-all self-indulgent art-wank bollocks. Which is A Good Thing. A slanted take on slanted pop, Fonda 500 are further proof that the most pleasurable genius is the unlikely kind.
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