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The other two singles are remix-heavy and fall into the category of "for fans only," each sporting a pair of makeovers that run the full gamut from stunningly bad to bizarrely, fascinatingly bad.
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"LMNO Hoes" is a jokey speed-core throwaway, but "What's in the Box" reveals the band's Brainiac heritage in satisfying fashion, nailing the mini-Moog squiggles and hysterical delivery better than most Timmy Taylor disciples. "All You Need Is Blood" also seems vaguely threatening at the start, but doesn't take off until the band slips into a hi-hat driven groove and Advantage NES-riffing. The tone on the title track is heavier than most of what's to be found on For Screening Purposes Only, but any threat of the band maintaining their scary pose is undercut by a playful garage-rock organ.
#BOA VS PYTHON PYTHON PLUS#
Python" is packaged with one track that also landed on the album, plus two that remain exclusive to this EP, and it serves as fitting introduction to the band's rambunctious sound. The other two show the band's willingness, like their big brothers in Death From Above 1979, to submit their music to revision by dance producers, a practice I'm pretty sure Minor Threat never indulged in. One serves the role of hype harbinger, an effective primer for the various angles the band covers at this embryonic stage. Here then, to coincide with the recent stateside release of their inconsistent yet promising full-length For Screening Purposes Only, is a run-down of the band's three EPs- one a U.S. In their pop/scream dichotomy, Test Icicles remind me of Braid, another band that was once referred to as post-hardcore, but a Braid that has lived through the recent vogue of dance-punk without becoming completely cynical about its potential. The trio never seems to stretch far from music that's aggressive, but at the same time are eager to apply the occasional spacey synth, dial down the vocals, and traffic in rhythms that do strange things to people's lower bodies. These are all things I've learned from listening to Test Icicles, and though "post-hardcore" may not be a wholly new or particularly accurate classification, it's how I'm hearing this London act's distinctive aesthetic. Post-hardcore means it's alright to release three singles from one album. It means you don't always have to be putting your vocal cords in mortal danger, though an old-fashioned primal scream still has its time and place. Post-hardcore means occasionally sounding like a video game. It means you don't find it a sell-out move to commission remixes from that "Music Sounds Better With You" guy and his buddy. It means you acknowledge that moshing is not the only acceptable dance move. Post-hardcore means not having to apologize for fourth-grade humor. Post-hardcore means not being afraid of keyboards.