Sunday into Monday most of the Eastern seaboard was socked with a late Winter storm that local meteorologists were predicting as the “worst of the season.” I don’t know if the system lived up to the hype, but we appear to have received a solid foot here in Western Massachusetts where every sidewalk is walled in by snow and mounds of the stuff adorn every streetcorner. I’ve also heard reports of a foot of snow from Bostonians, and my favorite weather website (yes I have one) is reporting that a new record for daily maximum snowfall—of 7.8 inches at Logan International Airport, breaking the old record of 7 inches set way back in 1916—was set yesterday in Boston.
Getting hit with so much snow so late in the season is actually something of a fortuitous occurrence since an urban landscape covered in white stuff is almost picture-perfect scenery for the return of The Whitest Boy Alive. Founded by Erlend Øye—half of Bergen, Norway’s Kings of Convenience and the voice of Röyksopp’s “Remind Me”—as an extension of his experiments in Electronic Dance Music, the Berlin, Germany-based outfit quickly evolved into a full-on four-piece band whose mélange of Nordic Pop, blue eyed Soul, soft-Funk, Disco and cheesy late-’70s or early-’80s-influenced Soft-Rock styles features little-to-no electronically-generated sounds. Their sophomore effort, titled Rules, drops today on their very own independent Bubbles imprint.
The eleven-track Rules, for want of a better word, rules. It rules my WinAmp media player, my ears and my ass! And if you bother to take the time to listen to it for yourself it’ll rule your face. Yes, your face will be ruled by Øye’s earnest, sort-of awkward, but undeniably charming monotone croonery, driving beats that virtually insist you shuffle your feet, overstuffed, plush-upholstered basslines, infectiously wriggly Rhodes accompaniment and the zoom, shroom, tweet, chirp and chatter of the vintage Crumar synthesizer. Rules‘ groove is just so pervasive that one spin should result in scrunched-up faces, bobbing heads and boogieing booties.
Taking a page out of Hercules and Love Affair’s retro-Disco handbook and a cue from Hot Chip’s Rave-reminiscing Techno-Pop while casting knowings glances at 70’s Jazz-Funk and ’80s Electro-Funk, The Whitest Boy Alive’s strategy on Rules seems to have been ruling the dancefloor. In that respect they succeed wildly, as the disc is far-more overtly floor-friendly than their 2006 debut Dreams which fell back on Øye’s Folk-Pop sensibilities and took a route to the club that snaked through neighborhoods populated by Post-Punk and New Wave bands more-so than straight-ahead Disco acts. This time they’re not just a bunch of pasty kids playing the wall at The Haçienda though, they’re right there under the mirror-ball with their shirts off and their hands in the air.
Album opener “Keep a Secret”—with its gently-prodding thump, bubbling bass, celestial synths, wormy electric piano and vaporous guitar—demands an extended re-edit and plenty of big-room burn by jocks who know how to work the lights and the EQ just right. At nearly seven minutes “Island”—which gives LCD Soundystem-esque cowbell-banging retro-Avant-Disco an organic makeover and sends it on a Balearic vacation—on the other hand doesn’t even need an extended edit. The “Cola Bottle Baby”-influenced “1517″ is an exercise in jazzy Disco-Funk that pays tribute to both Edwin Birdsong and Daft Punk alike. And the Prince-riffing on “High On the Heels” and the hybridization of Jazz and Techno influences on “Courage” are winning as well.
The Whitest Boy Alive “High On the Heels”
Even cuts where they hold down the BPMs—like “Intentions,” “Rollercoaster Ride” and “Gravity” which fuse CTI/Kudu Jazz, West Coast Funk and Yacht-Rock, and are driven by the interplay between keyboardist Daniel Nentwig, bassist Marcin Öz, and the delicate guitar and vocal work of Øye himself more than pumping beats, propulsive grooves or a body-jacking pace—get under the skin. In fact, I can’t think of many records released so far this year that are as wholly energetic, catchy, comforting, smooth and engaging as Rules. Granted, this is me speaking as an across-the-board fan of Øye’s. But even so I’ve not been as impressed by his songwriting and composition and as driven to move my body by his music since “Remind Me.”
Before I get out of here for another day I’ve got to send a special birthday shout-out to somebody else who “rules”…My best friend and housemate—and Blogarhythms reader—m. Cody, who was born today a number of years ago which she’d probably prefer I kept confidential. If I had a dime to my name a series of not-that-expensive but surely well thought-out gifts would be accompanying this message. But since I don’t this blog post-script is going to have to do. Happy birthday…