Business is unusual, and business is good...
Un-marketable. Un-mouldable. Un-fuckable. Ikara Colt exist because 99.9% of
everything else is shit and getting shitter.
We are at the absolute other end of the spectrum from Stereophonics here. Both
‘Pop Group’ and the killer first single ‘Sink Venice’ are
based on the Colt‘s oft-expressed and entirely admirable opinion that, after five
years, all bands should be taken out and shot. Before they get the
chance to get fat, old, smug, contented and soft-handed.
No compromises made to the lucrative possibilities of dance remixes or daytime radio play – all you
get is relentless minimalism (‘One Note’), paranoia (‘At The Lodge’),
inverse snobbery (‘Belgravia’) and a spitting hatred of pop mediocrity (
‘Video Clip Show’). Put it this way – if you don’t loathe the likes of
Starsailor and Travis with every fibre of your being then there’s
absolutely no fucking chance whatsobleedingever that you’ll like Ikara Colt.
They’re a sort of twat-filter. And this, by the very
fact of its existence, is brilliant.