Death From Above 1979
You're a Woman, I'm a Machine

Release Date: 2004 | Tracklist

You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine by the duo Death From Above 1979 is a seemingly irresistible, swaggering, sweaty good time. Their dance punk fusion screeches, crashes, collapses, and swirls all over on this irreverent disc; which is sure to have you moving. It’s straight up pleasure with these guys. Every one of these tracks builds, releases, and repeats - go figure. But, embedded in this album are some very sinister lyrics, which prove to be the main issue to be had with it. For some, the lyrics on You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine can be ignored, “it’s just about the music”, I disagree. The music isn’t interesting enough to warrant a pass on the misogynistic guys-get-smooth-girls-get-facials lyrics that these guys employ here. It is in the lyrics that DFA 1979 show us what You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine is all about, using.

You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine is a dance album with obvious punk influences which the duo has invoked wisely. The first track, “Turn It Out”, eases you into an explosive screech which continues to swirl every which way as Sebastien Grainger desperately yelps. This doesn’t let up. Actually, it leads right into the next track, “Romantic Rights”, which even further grabs and entrances as the bass and drums crash while Grainger continues to get it all out with his voice. This is the album, all out continuous action for your ears. The album does risk sounding repetitive, and they do tread that line. But, every track is nuanced enough for it not to be a major problem, “Go Home, Get Down” pleads where “Romantic Rights” demands, “Sexy Girl” struts while “Little Girl” slinks. There is one noticeable snag along the way, “Black History Month” is not a bad stand-alone track, but, seems oddly out of place on the album, breaking the flow of the album as a whole. As well as the ridiculous outro on “Blood On Our Hands” which stalls everything, I guess it’s when we’re supposed to take a swig from our drinks. It’s a shame that it exists, considering that otherwise the track's catchy thump combined with Grainger’s annunciative voice is irresistible; I dare you not to move your body to that track.

After my first listen to You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine, not only was I exhausted, I was concerned. The high energy, catchy baselines, pounding synths, all of it seemed hollow. The album was a good time, but it didn’t seem like a good natured one. That’s because it’s not. On half of these tracks these guys are playing Lothario. They want to meet you in the bathroom, take you home with them and push in-pull out, letting your spirit free…err, right. After that, it’s “move-move-move”. These guys straight up state it, they “don’t need you they want you”, something tells me they probably wanted someone else earlier that day, maybe even a “chick” who has a boyfriend, if you do “you've got two months to tell him something”, how nice. It’s all over this album, hitting it and quitting it, hurting the women they supposedly “love”, and forcing them to do unthinkable things for their love. But, they should have known. Remember, these guys, they’re machines, and the women are just that, women.

When You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine finishes, you end up feeling a lot like the females on this album. Seduced, gotten off, and ditched. The album at first glance is very enticing; it gets you moving, all hot and sweaty. It’s a straight up pleasure ride, one you won’t soon forget, and maybe yearn for in the future. But, at the end of it all, you’ll be asking yourself if it was worth it. Was it any good? Was it worth the misogyny and emptiness? And if you’re asking, it probably wasn’t.

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4 excellent

Rank: #139 for 2004