Fuck Buttons are part of the nouvelle vague of bands with fuck in their moniker and they make a pulcritudinous, fiery, blancmange of ear smiting noise and melody. I saw them once and it's two lads bashing away on lots of equipment but facing each other like some sort of game of table-tennis you might see in The Lawnmower Man. Apparently a girl i know is going out with one of them, or was or something, but that could be a load of shite. There's something a bit trancey about this tune and it's probably the most immediately accessible on their record, which is a pretty visceral album of harmonious drone and clatter. This song spent six weeks at number 76 in the charts in one of the longest sustained periods of hit parade inertia ever recorded. Amazing!
Silver Medalist
1 comment:
Roll on the DEAF closing party.
Safe.
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