Miss are an independent band from Philadelphia, USA comprising the
members Christopher Adam, Lara D'Anna and Steve Seidler. When pushed to
pigeonhole themselves, Miss slot rather uncomfortably into the "dance/techno"
bracket, but encompass more diverse influences and styles than that.
"Civil War", the product of "too many all-night sessions", sees a band entirely committed and focused in their intentions: those of producing music on their own terms with no concession. To quote Seidler, "[our music] shall be the anthem of a new brotherhood between humans. If not, we will hunt them down and destroy them." Nothing like setting your maifesto out on the table upfront... "What Is" opens the LP, and is a showcase for the warm and mellow tones of D'Anna's honeyed voice, demonstrating before all the technical accomplishment of the band. That out the way, "SOS" serves as a symphonic prelude to the remainder of the LP, a piano instrumental by Seidler evoking false feelings of calm and safety. Feelings quickly eroded by the weird dissonance of the unsettling "Fun", mixing D'Anna's velvet tones with subterranean disharmonic piano and strings that waft in and out of the song like moths through an open window at night. Next is the sledgehammer assault of "Spit", beginning with Lara's assertion that she "can spit really far". Always useful in this day and age. Imagine a more cinematic Front 242, or Nine Inch Nails duetting with Michael Nyman and you're close to this sci-fi symphony of a song. "Gravity" is next, and frankly is a little out of place, sounding like something Prince would've come up with 10 years ago and stuck on a b-side. Saved by some nice synth stabs and sounds that sneak up behind you and scare the shit out of you, it is still a weak link on the LP. "Head Not Found" is back on form, a malevolent brooder of a song that swims through your head like a cybernetic version of Jaws, sweeping past majestically and snapping at you savagely in equal measures. "White" carries on the theme, funking things up slightly. Imagine the terminator exoskeleton body-popping in a disused steelworks as Lara serenades it over the factory tannoy (and if you can imagine that, you're doing pretty well). "No Fault" nods a Bladerunner-ish styled head to Vangelis, with its sci-fi cinematics and stylish evil, serving as a lead in to the Eastern-style vibe of "Untitled", a mesmeric beauty of a number that clings onto your head and refuses to let go. All is but chaff when compared to the mighty twelve-minute symphony of "Civil War". Reprising several of the moods and tones already heard, this behemoth straddles the LP, gazing down at you, the lowly listener, with contempt and casual disinterest. Then Lara's voice sweeps in like a desert sandstorm, and Seidler's piano lulls you into a false sense of security - an oasis in the middle of the song. Slowly but surely, the malevolence of the instrumentation creeps back into the mix and engulfs the vocals as Lara piteously laments "everything's ruined". Extraordinary. After that, you either need a cold shower, a strong coffee, or the relatively upbeat instrumental full-stop that is "Mono", Lara escaping the confines of the previous track to gyrate around the mix like a synthesised siren, trailing multi-layered sonic rainbows in her wake. Nevertheless, I'm off for a strong cup of java now. Miss are quintessentially underground, making music entirely on their own terms and without the confines of large record company rules and regulations. Whilst very occasionally some degree of quality control wouldn't go amiss ("Gravity" is not up to the standard of the rest of the material, and "No Fault" seems a little incongruous), on the whole the band hit home with unerring accuracy with their brand of pre-millenial beat-driven paranoia, at times brooding and cinematic and at others joyous and unconstrained; yet always bubbling just under the surface is that delicious taste of danger and malevolence that makes "Civil War" so unsettling - and so invigorating. Visit Miss on the web, then pay a call on J-Bird Records. |
