This New York band’s first album for a decade is as good as anything else they’ve done, but what were they thinking with the track order? Things get off to an agreeable bouncy Blondie-esque start with first single “Pirates”. But after that there are several decidedly plodding, generic tracks before the party really gets started. Perhaps they have succumbed to the long-held received wisdom that only a dull four-to-the-floor beat will seduce the masses. But it’s always been their knack for combining novel polyrhythms with unusual chord progressions that’s made them one of my favourite 21st century American bands. That along with Sabina Sciubia’s pleasingly off-kilter lyrics in tandem with her sensual yet paradoxically detached vocal style (with its German, French and Italian inflections).
Even if the generic simplicity of these "disco" tunes with their cheesy synth hooks were composed with a knowing wink, such a stance doesn’t suit musicians this sophisticated. Their unique Talking Heads-like chemistry as a unit is wasted on such confections. So it’s something of a relief when “Let’s Make Love” eventually kicks in with its quirkier tom-toms-heavy rock'n'roll arrangement and Nico-meets-Chrissie Hynde vocals. “Forget about the rest,” implores Sabina Sciubia. And I’m more than willing to if things continue looking up. And they do.
There’s “Balla Balla” with its “Walk Like an Egyptian” shimmer and swagger, “Woman in the Red” and its joyously fuzzy bass line, and the infectious stop/start groove of the Flying Lizards-ish “The Critic”. And so ultimately this critic, he say yes. This is largely Brazilian Girls as I’ve known and loved them since their self-titled 2005 debut album. Perhaps this was the idea: do the opposite to every other recording artist of the last 40 years; save all your best tracks until last and stick your dull fillers on at the start. But mystifying all the same.
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