This whole event is not unlike a Christmas [I]Top Of The Pops[/I], all bright-eyed enthusiasm, bushy-tailed ravey outbursts and amiable jabberings from microphone man Maxi Jazz...
Fair play, too, for this is some sort of homecoming: in the aftermath of their latest sneaky Top Ten success, 'God Is A DJ', Faithless have brought their communal rock'n'Rollo-ing fandango to the cosy coast. And 'sneaky' is the operative word, as it feels as though the multifaceted outfit have somehow hoodwinked us, always being the band that we meant to check out while they were away selling a million units worldwide. Not for nothing have they called their label Cheeky.
And not for nothing are they a trans-global success. A nine-strong live extravaganza, they are all about reaching techno peaks and then reaching even higher techno peaks. Exponents of a fervently good-time experience, Faithless exist in a simple world where even Spanish guitar solos can turn the front rows into braying dance donkeys, so what chance do they have with their rampant post-rave anthemic swellings?
An excellent one, obviously. Years ago, the charts were full of the funky Capri-tastic likes of Shalamar and Shakatak. Faithless, to all intents and purposes, are the populist equivalent for the (sigh) new millennium, albeit with superior tunes, cooler ideals and much, much better clothes. In fact, this whole event is not unlike a Christmas Top Of The Pops, all bright-eyed enthusiasm, bushy-tailed ravey outbursts and amiable jabberings from microphone man Maxi Jazz. It ain't The Third Eye Foundation. But we like it.
Interesting last bit: because they actually run Cheeky records, if things ever went a bit 'Kenickie', Faithless would have to drop themselves. Now, that is a paradox...
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