Photography by Becky
Jesus H. Huffinstuff Portugal. The Man!!!! Another album? Seriously? What is that, 12 in 2 weeks or something??? Yes, my friends, while the world sits around for 2 or 3 years for most bands to collect 2 singles & 10 filler tracks, while I try my very first Abba Zabba bar (undecided if this is “good” or not), Portugal. The Man have put out 5, yeah FIVE, full & glorious proper albums in the past 5 years that I know of — for all I know, there’s probably some solo shit & side-project stuff out there too).
Look, PtM, you are Alaskan, NOT Canadian, you are allowed to slow it down a notch.
Okay, it’s official, Abba Zabba bars suck. Too much taffy, not enough peanut butter. Sorry.
It couldn’t be better timing though that American Ghetto popped out yesterday (like the baby on the album cover). I’ve been on a Censoured Colours (proper Canadian spelling by me) kick for the past week or so (one of the best albums of the 2000s so far) and before I could wax poetically about it, here’s their latest!
In some ways, American Ghetto picks up where the Satanic Satanist left off, in the sense that they are still walking the streets with some giant testicled — hey Firefox, what do you mean “testicled” isn’t a word? — swagger, and, as Martha Stewart might say, “that’s a good thing”.
*must resist Mr. T impersonation*
That’s about where the similarities are, well, that and their distinct vocals, but not much you can do about that except abusing autotune. Oh, speaking of… now that this:
…is an “intertubal superhighway of love meme” can we please, Please, PLEASE stop with the auto-tune abuse??? Please? Thanks.
Back to Portugal. The Man (sorry guys) & American Ghetto, this time out I think our boys must’ve been inspired by the 6 or 30 or whatever months of darkness up there in Alaska as there’s just something “night time” & sexy about this album. Just got this late night, underground groove going on that is, as the kids say, “teh sexors”. I listen to “The Dead Dog”, and I can see walking into a poorly florescent-lit urban apartment complex basement where a select group of sexy types are working up a sweat, wiggly & squirming around to the music — all in slow motion, mind you.
But… I’m prone to an active imagination.