Let’s talk about abbreviations... basically a shortened form of a word, phrase, or even branding... like, AEW, which is All Elite Wrestling... S&M which is the kind of fun, kinky shit I’m not going to share with you HERE, this aint Only Fans! (I say this winking at you, watching you recoil in confused arousal), and we can’t forget LGBTQ+, which, is just cheating at Scrabble, let’s be honest.
This segue brings us to VR; virtual reality... and, I’m going to have to set the scene here using DEMOLITION MAN of all things. Do you remember that bit where, Sylvester Stallone and Sandra Bullock partake in that brief bout of, futuristic head-set sexy sex? It was like being off your tits on Viagra and mushrooms with absolutely none of the nutritional value. I don’t know what confused him more, this or the seashells? I digress...this IS fitting however, as today we’ll be taking a look at VR SEX...
Comprised of Noel Skum, Z. Oro and Mico Frost, who, aside from sounding like the contents of a BTEC Kellog’s variety pack, are an acid-punk / death-rock / ethereally ambient ensemble, who released their newest album this year entitled “Rough Dimensions”. The question is, if Y4dyz =√(60/4) x yz/r² x (1/4𝜋) ½ , what the FUCK is THIS album going to sound like? There’s only one way to find out...
The album opens up with “Victim Or Vixen” and it starts with this, almost, 1970’s era, grainy synth instrumentation, that you might find in the theme of a children's TV show. That however soon descends into something between KILLING JOKE and JOY DIVISION instrumentally. It’s got a somewhat smooth post-punk aesthetic, with a lack of vocal range, practically spoken word for the most part, yet manages to bridge that with an indie/grunge vibe. It ends on an enjoyably melodic note, ultimately starting things off in an interesting manner with a variety of influences.
We quickly transition then into album highlight “Glutton For Love”, which utilizes all of the above points while delivering the hooks; the synths here make this song, and it’s got an incredibly up-beat chorus instrumentally. There’s a sense of frustration here vocally at times that harks back to the likes of THE CURE, and it lavishes in its more pop-based production because of it.
Further notable points include “Live In A Dream”, which starts off reminding me of a BLOODHOUND GANG track (Think “Along Comes Mary”), which is a mixed bag of tricks...however combining bits of bass-rich post-punk with a more indie-rock aesthetic, the verses here reek of the SLEAFORD MODS. It’s got charm to it, and it’s a grower to be fair, but the near-spoken word delivery again can be understandably off-putting. “Walk Of Fame” in turn channels the likes of RADIOHEAD, with its slowly plucked, frankly crestfallen sense of vulnerable accountability, and that itself heaps on about as much praise as I can possibly muster...
The rest of the album then which, retains that sense of overall melancholic misery, plateaus, into this generally uninspired mediocrity. “Cyber Crimes” as an interlude is absolutely pointless... at just over half a minute of electronic distortion, it sounds like a late 90’s AOL internet Dial-Up connection having a stroke. “End Vision” starts off promisingly with some up-beat, catchy percussion and does maintain an up-tempo rhythm, but is let down by the stagnant vocal delivery. At least for half the track...the last half plods itself over the finish line with the laziest of riffs that, loop so lethargically...it’s like that cut off point where you can hear them running out of ideas.
VR SEX, I guess, on first listen, are a bit like losing your actual virginity. On paper it’s a wonderous thing; you go into it head-on full of excitement without the foggiest idea what you’re doing, fumble your way through until you finish, a bit sloppily, thinking...oh? “Rough Dimensions” here has its ideas, as do the band in general, but just like Stallone wearing that head-set, you can’t help but wish it was just some, back-to-basics post-punk, or in his case, post-spunk. An average album by an average band with a quirky name...now if you’ll excuse me, taking off MY headset, the curtains have been open this whole time, and, the bacon just pulled up...at least the band can thank me for some decent exposure? No? (Laughing for the last time as a free man) *KNOCK KNOCK* “Open up! It’s The Police!”...fuck... [4]
This segue brings us to VR; virtual reality... and, I’m going to have to set the scene here using DEMOLITION MAN of all things. Do you remember that bit where, Sylvester Stallone and Sandra Bullock partake in that brief bout of, futuristic head-set sexy sex? It was like being off your tits on Viagra and mushrooms with absolutely none of the nutritional value. I don’t know what confused him more, this or the seashells? I digress...this IS fitting however, as today we’ll be taking a look at VR SEX...
Comprised of Noel Skum, Z. Oro and Mico Frost, who, aside from sounding like the contents of a BTEC Kellog’s variety pack, are an acid-punk / death-rock / ethereally ambient ensemble, who released their newest album this year entitled “Rough Dimensions”. The question is, if Y4dyz =√(60/4) x yz/r² x (1/4𝜋) ½ , what the FUCK is THIS album going to sound like? There’s only one way to find out...
The album opens up with “Victim Or Vixen” and it starts with this, almost, 1970’s era, grainy synth instrumentation, that you might find in the theme of a children's TV show. That however soon descends into something between KILLING JOKE and JOY DIVISION instrumentally. It’s got a somewhat smooth post-punk aesthetic, with a lack of vocal range, practically spoken word for the most part, yet manages to bridge that with an indie/grunge vibe. It ends on an enjoyably melodic note, ultimately starting things off in an interesting manner with a variety of influences.
We quickly transition then into album highlight “Glutton For Love”, which utilizes all of the above points while delivering the hooks; the synths here make this song, and it’s got an incredibly up-beat chorus instrumentally. There’s a sense of frustration here vocally at times that harks back to the likes of THE CURE, and it lavishes in its more pop-based production because of it.
Further notable points include “Live In A Dream”, which starts off reminding me of a BLOODHOUND GANG track (Think “Along Comes Mary”), which is a mixed bag of tricks...however combining bits of bass-rich post-punk with a more indie-rock aesthetic, the verses here reek of the SLEAFORD MODS. It’s got charm to it, and it’s a grower to be fair, but the near-spoken word delivery again can be understandably off-putting. “Walk Of Fame” in turn channels the likes of RADIOHEAD, with its slowly plucked, frankly crestfallen sense of vulnerable accountability, and that itself heaps on about as much praise as I can possibly muster...
The rest of the album then which, retains that sense of overall melancholic misery, plateaus, into this generally uninspired mediocrity. “Cyber Crimes” as an interlude is absolutely pointless... at just over half a minute of electronic distortion, it sounds like a late 90’s AOL internet Dial-Up connection having a stroke. “End Vision” starts off promisingly with some up-beat, catchy percussion and does maintain an up-tempo rhythm, but is let down by the stagnant vocal delivery. At least for half the track...the last half plods itself over the finish line with the laziest of riffs that, loop so lethargically...it’s like that cut off point where you can hear them running out of ideas.
VR SEX, I guess, on first listen, are a bit like losing your actual virginity. On paper it’s a wonderous thing; you go into it head-on full of excitement without the foggiest idea what you’re doing, fumble your way through until you finish, a bit sloppily, thinking...oh? “Rough Dimensions” here has its ideas, as do the band in general, but just like Stallone wearing that head-set, you can’t help but wish it was just some, back-to-basics post-punk, or in his case, post-spunk. An average album by an average band with a quirky name...now if you’ll excuse me, taking off MY headset, the curtains have been open this whole time, and, the bacon just pulled up...at least the band can thank me for some decent exposure? No? (Laughing for the last time as a free man) *KNOCK KNOCK* “Open up! It’s The Police!”...fuck... [4]
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