Streets On Fire
(Self-Released)
The Streets on Fire missed the dance-punk revival by some five or six years, about the ideal span to forget how tired everyone had become of the manic, pounding beats, the epileptic arm flailing, the hip-jutting, the tortured yelping, the relentless onslaught of hi-hat and bass. It's good timing on the part of this Chicago four-piece, because there was never anything wrong with this sound, not when it was done with conviction. The Streets on Fire have that in spades. It sounds like their hair really is on fire here on this debut, and that is always, always a good thing.
There are two killer songs on This Is Fancy. The opener, "No One's Fucking to the Radio," fuses new wave synths and scratchy guitars to rapid, ragged drumming. The distinctive element, here and elsewhere, is singer Chadwick's voice. There's an electric shock running through it, a desperate, nearly painful energy, as he urges us to "just toss those records out" repeatedly, at ever higher, more hysterical tones. It's an impressive, physically discomforting performance, something like Davey Henderson in the Fire Engines. "Astronaut Love Triangle," later on, is cut from the same manic cloth, riding a buzzing, subliminal bassline and a mess of clattery drums. The subject seems to be lust in space, a silly topic pursued with gleaming-eyed obsessiveness with a bit of foot fetish. "I can see your feet through your space boots/That means that all of you is mine" yelps Chadwick, and if he sees the humor in the line, you can't tell from his delivery.
Chadwick is the flashiest, most entertaining factor in This Is Fancy, but he's certainly not working alone. "Chadwick Shut Up!" allows a long, pedal-altered guitar solo to erupt out of its hard, rhythmic foundations, a bit of space rock wedged in a post-punk carryall. Things get even trippier in the long, psychedelic closer "Color/Stereo" and heavy, sludgy "Hello, From Eastern Europe." There's a blues influence, too, that brings to mind the UK's Archie Bronson Outfit, and comes out best in the complicatedly clapped, 12/8 circling of "Fancy," one of the disc's few unambiguous ballads.
Yet for the most part, Streets on Fire succeeds best when they rampage heedlessly over boxy, late-1970s beats, leaving just enough space for Chadwick to preen and pout and shock. There are not too many frontmen who can get away with lines like, "I told you once, I told you twice, I shake my finger, tell you nice...If not, I don't care, I'll pull down your underwear" (from "Chadwick Shut Up") and when they come along, you have to make the most of them.
DOWNLOAD: "No One's Fucking to the Radio" "Astronaut Love Triangle" JENNIFER KELLY
