It's lo-fi, it's pretentious, it's nice, it's groovy. Buy it.
Fancy a job at [I]NME[/I]? No you don’t, trust me. Y’see the office stereo is under the control of a depraved clique of twiddle-knobbed art-ponce jizz-jazz enthusiasts who drive the rest of the staff MAD with a seemingly endless barrage of what can only be described teeth-grittingly unbearable WANK!
But once in a while they’ll play us a gem. This is one such – the second [a]Discordia[/a] album which combines breakbeats with ooky-spookster “melodic landscapes” and – guess what? – does not suck! [a]Discordia[/a] make the sort of records that acid-shattered Channel 4 editors and coke-blitzed car advert directors love. Moody swirling, subtly discordant bip-bop-bab floaty-floaty and ever so slightly groovy drug-muzak with obliquely witty titles like ‘Galaxians vs Discordians’, ‘Even Discordians Get The Blues’ and ”O Winter Grips Discordia’. This is what Fatboy Slim would sound like if he’d never discovered ketamine and recorded all his stuff in a friend’s bedroom on wax cylinders.
It’s lo-fi, it’s pretentious, it’s nice, it’s groovy, it’s like Mogwai without the rage plus new wonder ingredient Mental Trip Hop Indie Disco – and it’s utterly, utterly lovely. Buy it.