Chicks On Speed - '99 ¢' (Chicks On Speed)
3/5
By: Thomas Hannan
Something's going on in Berlin. Gonzales knows it, Peaches knows it, Chicks on Speed - they know it, too. It's long been a city of culture and sleaze in equal measure, and it comes as no surprise the coolest goings-on there as we speak are of course appropriately debauched... For some reason, it's a scene that seems to revolve around a group of women in their mid-thirties and various synthesizers...
It also seems to be a scene where everyone turns up on everyone else's records. Oh yes, it's guest-appearance time - somewhere amongst these Casio beats and keyboard slides emerges input from Le Tigre, Peaches, Adult, Miss Kittin, even Talking Heads' Tina Weymouth providing a reworking of her own 'Wordy Rappinghood'. It'd take a very knowledgeable ear to spot most of them, but it's obvious just from the sleeve-notes that some very cool people have a lot of respect for Chicks On Speed. So, should we?
After some consideration, you'll come to the conclusion that yes, you should. Everything about them is fun, achingly fashionable and doused in sweet tunes. The off-kilter sense of music, humour and life in general is also something to be admired, but alas, they're not without their shortcomings. There's no danger to Chicks on Speed, they don't have the same 'I'll bash your head in with this sex toy' threat as Peaches, or the cold but suave sophistication of Ladytron. It's electroclash without the flamboyance, but as such it never feels detached from its audience. There's something about records such as this, albums that don't sound full, ones with flaws or room for improvement, that's actually quite endearing. COS play on this well.
That's not to say we just like this out of a twisted joy derived from all that's slightly crude, because there is a substantial helping of unarguably good tunes here. Take 'We Don't Play Guitars' for example, a just under four-minute slice of unadulterated fun (with added Peaches) and also, as it happens, a lie. There are guitars here after all, and they're amongst the best of it. The marvelous, threateningly dark squealing of 'Culture Vulture' is the height of the Chicks On Speed's musical talent, intricately layered levels, pulsing beats... there's even a trumpet in there somewhere. At times, 'Sell-Out' for example, it even strays close to UK garage. It's a worthy example of instrumental diversity, yes, but other than that, not entirely necessary. Trust us though; it beats 'Universal Pussy' any day.
Their best moments come in their darkest spots (opener 'Shooting From The Hip' or the noisy meanderings of the hidden bonus-track are further examples), so strange then that they appear so keen to come across as little more than some cute but seedy thrills.
And after all the saga, we're not actually given any conclusive evidence as to where Chicks On Speed are even aiming - lovable, or scary? Throwaway or calculated? Heck, perhaps they don't even know themselves. Long may they milk such contradictions.
Artists in this article: Chicks On Speed
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