Debut from low-key avant-punksters
It’s just the way a debut album should be. Utterly focused, stripped of all extraneous flab, and with an album title snatched from AC/DC, ‘Rock It To The Moon’ is the first full-length offering from Brighton’s Electrelane – four Stoogettes on a mission to play like Broadcast with a rocket stuffed up their portable tranceivers.
With every Tom, Dick, and Gay Dad babbling on about their long-standing fascination with krautrock, one could be forgiven for tuning out at the genre’s very mention. But in the true spirit of the music, ‘Rock It…’ sounds absolutely huge – a reminder of the time when Mogwai made music that sounded like two galaxies colliding. And there’s not a banjo in sight.
So, while crafting a feeling of creeping, skin-crawling suspense is the album’s first impulse – see the deeply sinister spy-drama soundtrackings of ‘Long Dark’ – ‘Rock It…’ is never afraid to capitalise on these expectations. The overbearing garage rock drone of ‘Spartakiade’ lights the fuse. But it’s where it all all ends, on the quite staggering ‘Mother’ – 11 minutes of psychotik motorik, with the four screaming like banshees as their speeding juggernaut hurtles off the end of Brighton pier – that seals the deal.
Victory? It seldom sounded so stark. [I]Just[/I] the way a debut album should be.