Wu Lyf – Go Tell Fire To The Mountain (LYF)
by Tamsin Chapman
Plato, in his cave allegory, describes a group of people chained in a cave, facing a blank wall. The shadows they see projected on the wall from the fire are all they know of reality.
If Plato was living now, and wrote for Collapse Board, he’d update the analogy. There’d still be a cave and a blank wall. But this time the people are Arcade Fire fans. And all they know of reality is itchy facial hair, mild dental pain and really, really dull music. On the evidence of this album, Wu Lyf are those people.
This is the sort of thing footballers like. I have a mental picture of Wayne Rooney straining away at some hapless glamour model while this plays in the background like the ploddy, half-arsed elevator music it is. Wayne likes it’cos it sounds all big and important and the drums do funny scuttling things and the guitars are chimey and the vocals sound like the Kings Of Leon and all the songs are really long, which is cool right? Best of all it makes him feel clever and superior to his bird, who’d rather listen to Nicola Roberts’ new single. She’s right, he’s wrong. Dump him!
The only possible entertainment that any right-thinking pop fan (i.e. somebody who appreciates good songs, or loves to dance, or enjoys innovative music) can get from this album is the minor fun of wantonly mishearing the unintelligible, sung-in-a-pissy-bark lyrics. What’s that? “I’m peeing bread rolls?”, “I smell, you smell, you’ve got meaty pies in hell?”, “My bell end has warts???” No wonder they sound a bit pained. And I thought it was just creative constipation.
I sometimes hear the description “music for people who don’t like music”. Wu Lyf take it further. This is music for people who don’t like life.