Ever asked yourself the question of what would happen if Brian Molko was to replace Mike Patton as head of Faith No More? No? That’s probably because it is a frankly unthinkable combination so quite how Le Minus came upon the idea is somewhat hard to fathom. Freely mixing elements of hip hop, Placebo’s oddball take on indie, Deus’ art-rock approach and Faith No More’s genre-bending metal assault, you quite literally have no idea where Le Minus will take you on any of the nine tracks that comprise ‘make my day’ to the extent that it took me three listens before I could even decide if I liked the album or not. A record to persevere with, then, but one that has plenty of merit once you get your head around the mental concept.
Opening track ‘next’ is possibly the hardest to take on first listen, the rippling guitars hinting at a ska-ish feel whilst the rapped vocals suggest an album that will grate on the senses only for the band to pull the rug out from under your feet and head off on a chorus that is somewhere between the guitar swells of Placebo and Seafood and a conclusion that sees the band break out the big guns, an unexpectedly huge riff smashing the mood to pieces and showcasing a ferocious, even punk edge that is entirely at odds with the start of the track a bare two and a half minutes previously. ‘Told you so’ sees the vocals head even more into Brian Molko territory, the music strangely bouncy and, in all honesty, quite unlike anything you’ve ever heard before – a difficult trick to pull off in the heavily-populated music world these days. ‘Playing with echoes’ is a funky epic the like of which the Red Hot Chilli Peppers are too lame to produce these days, shot through with Hed(pe)-referencing guitars. Then, just as you’re settled into the groove, the band twist on their tail and unleash the frenetic ‘never forgive, never forget’ which builds to a hysterical peak and then just as suddenly dissolves into a completely different, funky beast right in front of your eyes. It’s a trick that recalls the demented Dog Fashion Disco along with its nods to Faith No More and Fantomas and it’s as likely to exasperate at least as many people as it delights, but if you’re open to something different that shows great musical dexterity then this could very well be for you.
Of the remaining tracks ‘my first and only lesson’ is a fast-paced ride through flaming guitars and twisty bass-lines overlaid with smooth rapped vocals and a malicious propensity to suddenly drop into down-tuned riffing that shouldn’t work but somehow does. ‘Castle doctrine’, meanwhile, is a slow-paced number that goes a good way to suggesting what would happen if Bjork and Filter teamed up to perform massive attack covers and then ‘one parachute’ kicks off with smart, angular riffing and a tale of potential disaster before sliding into a System of a down style conclusion. ‘Chaos rains’, far from being the full-on metallic assault the title suggests, is a funky number complete that only heads into heavier pastures on the chorus and then final track ‘Journey’s end’ draws the album to a close in Placebo-plays-Incubus territory and I’m no further towards understanding the band than I was at the outset of this review.
Three complete listens, not to mention countless tracks here and there, and I’m pretty sure I like Le Minus. I just don’t really know why. A glance through the review above will reveal any number of influences shot through each song, and over the course of the album Le minus unleash more invention than many bands draw together in a life-time. Musically and production-wise this is faultless and yet I can’t escape the feeling that this should be (and possibly is) one of the most annoying albums of all time… except it isn’t. Recommended for those with a taste for the deeply unusual this is, I think, a very good record, but it should be approached with caution by those who prefer a more straight-forward dose of heavy rock because you certainly will not find that here.