Good Press

September 29, 2009

The Medullary Paralysis hail from Italy, they are a three piece and according to the attaching press release have oft been compared to the Smashing Pumpkins, Marilyn Manson and Tears for Fears - although I’m suspecting that the Tears for Fears to which it refers are the little known dark half from a parallel universe TfF or else I need my ears testing. Winning hands down the longest song title this missive and probably for that matter any other missive before it, ‘we don’t drink, we don’t take drugs, we don’t have sex, we feel compassion’ may appear a rum do based on its name alone, the photo adorning the sleeve a distinctively austere black and white shot of the band looking for all the world like the Manics dolled up as mascara wearing fetish styled Kraftwerkian mannequins. The sounds inside - ah well we’ll settle for shoe-gazing industrial disco as being the best way of off handedly describing them, ’compassion of the dance’ certainly has something of a ’pure’ era Numan cast about its matrix albeit dutifully dashed with a post apocalyptic My Bloody Valentine kaleidoscopic swirl, strangely majestic and crafted with a withering wide screen aspect pitted, riddled and distressed by an armoury of toxic beats, its seems the Medullary Paralysis have a grasp of that darkly hybrid techno charged fatal glamour that was once the trademark of Curve, through the cross fired haze of scrambled pouting and purring communiqués moments of clarity emerge casting suggestively demurred swathes of passion consuming oblivion. ‘fashion slave’ is a little more disjointed and decadently seductive in appearance, the NiN reference markers all to obvious through the oppressive desperate and dirty desire there’s a recalling of a would be Depeche Mode persona being re-threaded by an alliance formed of Clock DVA and 1919 types. Best of the set by some distance is the parting ’heaven forbid’ - replete with clipped strut grooves and purring and prowling like a beast on heat as its tensely freefalls into goth laced bliss draped euphoric states once the remit of the likes of Sisters of Mercy, Fields of the Nephilm and Flesh for Lulu. Single of the Missive.

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