Ari Up, Coughs, and Mahi Mahi Reviews
Ari Up
“Dread More Den Dead”
(Collision)
“Dread More Den Dead” is the first, studio solo album by the legendary Ari Up, lead singer for The Slits and New Age Steppers — two pivotal bands that helped define the punky-reggae party sound coursing through the veins of the London underground in the late seventies and early eighties. Ari has since become a beacon of inspiration for women in the arts worldwide and is an active supporter of emerging artists and new music movements everywhere.
On “Dread” Ari extends her dub reggae roots into dancehall and ragga territory, transforming the heavily male-dominated — and often misogynist—style of Jamaican music into a platform for pointedly pro-family messages.
Combining her infamous operatic trill with a newfound provincial brogue adopted on the Kingston deejay circuit, the empowered punk
matriarch challenges her male counterparts to rethink their approach to sexuality and relationships on the disc’s hottest track “True Warrior”: “A bad boy to society, or lover to his family? / Bad boy to society, or lover to his baby and me? / Got to be a lover, and then you’re a fighter / Only a true lover can be a warrior.”
Having proved she can snarl as severely as any Sex Pistol and rock as hard as any member of The Clash, it should come as no surprise that Ari’s chops as a producer easily compare to the current crop of street beat and dancehall rhythm makers.
Ari’s electronic production is minimal in construction — applying just a dash of rhythm guitar and modest helpings of synthesizer — but her beats and bass are big and beefy and aggressive enough to emasculate any competition and eradicate the ignorance dividing the sexes.
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Coughs
“Fright Makes Right”
(Load)
Chicago’s Coughs are out to prove you’re never too old to throw a temper tantrum. On “Fright Makes Right,” lead vocalist Anya Davidson leads this windy-city six-piece unit of multi-instrumentalists through one hissy-fit after another, screaming Lydia Lunch-style over rollicking sheet metal rhythms and shrieking reed skronk-outs.
Utilizing a thick stock of pounding percussion, fluttering saxophone, and throbbing bass Coughs stir up a belligerent jambalaya of hardcore punk and freaked-out free jazz. The band’s writhing and wailing hurts as it heals, generating fresh headaches in the pursuit of cathartic release.
Coughs tread a familiar terrain of youthful impetuousness and artful obnoxiousness, but apply just the right balance of agility and absurdity to their craft to keep things interesting. However, the impact of the band’s more intricate — and most impressive — moments are defused as they often collapse into hyper-distorted, over-the-top scream-a-thons. Recommended for the young and the restless.
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Mahi Mahi
“(Re)Move Your Body”
(Corleone)
V. Von Ricci and Sir VZO a.k.a. Mahi Mahi are back with a well produced and instantly gratifying new full-length of uptight, neo- new wave dance anthems. The Providence-based duo’s sophomore effort sees them sharpening their particular style of electro-stomp and mixing it up with tragic-yet-redemptive subject matter.
The duo’s electronic bass pulses, tin-toned vocalizations, and blocky, syncopated rhythms — both acoustic and synthetic — pack a punch and provide a convincing foundation for a new, slightly elusive lyrical direction.
“She set the night in motion with some water in the tub / Then she wrote us all a letter on a napkin from the club / Then she made a decision as she held the television / Our little baby. has gone,” Ricci sings on “Daughter of Sam.” “An entire generation drowned / You can tell the world we disappeared / You can tell the world we died alive.”
These may be dark days for the skinny tie set, but the tight techno-funk of Mahi Mahi is programmed to uplift. The quirky breakbeat of “654321″ provides an infectious, uprocking rhythm for a rebellious rap about the complexity of attraction: “I’ve walked one thousand miles to meet you / One thousand miles to get away / I’ve got an order to delete you / But now I want to disobey.”
The duo’s retro appeal and cryptic lyricism doesn’t always coalesce, but they have an engaging pop sound sure to inspire posing hordes everywhere. Eschew ennui and the meaninglessness of life and dance another day with Mahi Mahi.
— John Rickman
