Squelchy electro funk from Cardiff based Omega 66 gets off to a vibrant start with Stank Machine, it has the same kind of sleazy dance vibe of Har Mar Superstar, Krik providing a lively backdrop of quirky percussion, splodgy synths and twiddly ambience, whilst Sally Thomas’ vocal barks authoratively.
It’s followed by the glittering disco title track, the to and fro between male and female vocals lends this a certain Scissor Sisters chic, but its retro styling is more Gloria Gaynor thanks to a pleasingly sparse arrangment and sexy bass. Much like the dancefloor tunes of ‘yesteryear’, occasionally a track with linger for a little too long and ultimately settle for a bland fade-out ending, but, strangely it feels more like a deliberate nod to the homaged era than that much of a failing on behalf of the musicians to find a fitting finale.
Celebrity Burn Out begins with a laidback feel similar to Groovejet by DJ Spiller, but once the song gets underway it has more an energy closer to contemporary RNB, though its tales of rehab and magazine pages are a tad lyrically redundant. Aqueous Waltz is a fluffier, more instrument driven affair, using its vocals either in whispered bursts or to lend further texture to the mix, and it winds up sounding like a daffy William Orbit-remix of Captain Beefheart‘s Electricity.
It’s followed by The Way It Is one of the record’s more soulful tracks, its sentiments akin to a What’s Going On?-like thought process and Thomas’ voice is passionate and cracked similar to the under-rated Nikka Costa. Krik keeps his soundscape restrained, the drum line and his funky guitar occasionally taking prominence and, thanks to the song’s structure, picking up the track’s meaning as signposted by Thomas.
Something on My Brain turns from spooky murmurings into a drum-n-bass vs. piano instrumental, with howling backing vocals whilst snatches of Krik’s voice croak the title. It shares similar DNA to the sample heavy Mutation, this a swampy trip-hop tune, content to amble along albeit with skittering, interesting watery percussion.
Elsewhere there’s Magic Notion which goes from chanted choruses into slightly poetic asides and then interestingly produced nursery rhyme like vocal distortions, springboarding off of a spook house melody. Naked Paranoia is a disappointingly flimsy tune and one of the more standard verse-chorus arrangments here.
The funky bass and ramshackle guitar of Earworms pick things up considerably, it has a shaggy freeform feeling to it, drawn back occasionally to the simplistic but energetic chorus, wandering around dubby and rock tangents. In It’s Demeaning there’s an even more wonderful change of pace, creating an Aretha Franklin like number with eccentric grubby lyrics like ‘Council flat new windows/Lost your door on bingo.’ and a superbly brilliant falsetto squeaked chorus. It’s a track laced with contemporary satire and wit, that much like Pulp‘s Common People rises above its humour to have relevance in amongst the arch lyrics, and, hand in hand with that, it’s a fun, danceable number.
It’s a shame then that Computer Virus has a dull beat, some lazy rhymes and a dire chorus. The record then ends with the curiously flavoured Shedding Light, emotively delivered vocals, cowbell and Latin influenced guitar lines add up to a bright and breezy but very unsatisfying conclusion to this LP.
There’s a lot to like on this record, Omega 66 manage to flit between genres with consumate skill, but this sophomore LP peaks two tracks before it finishes and a few songs are a tad flabby. However, beyond all of that this is a really strong and dancefloor friendly record that is well worth a spin.
[Rating:4]
