Review Summary: "And maybe some day, she'll return."
Deformity Disco is not going to waste time explaining itself to you. It has places to go and people to see.
Sugary Sweet Machines leaves it up to you whether or not you want to come along. The album starts with a track of funky rhythms played unconventionally and under the guise of effect laden layers of instrumentation. This quickly dissolves to give way to the first proper song, which just so happens to easily be the most accessible offering on the release. “Television Programs” is a song reminiscent of the golden age of post punk seen through a modern, twisted lens. The bass line, which drives the song, sounds like something written by
The Cure to be in turn played by
Talking Heads. However, the song keeps its own flavor with creepy vocals strained through some sort of electric distortion, and an abrasive electronic intermission that punctures the middle of the song like a factory alarm.
From there, the album expects that you’re either with it or against it and crashes its ideas against your eardrums with varying results. The next song is the first to see percussion and shows off SSM’s prowess for rhythm. After this, the album meanders about to its heart’s content. There will be a song of bass and guitar interplay that feels like an extended jam session, but still remains calculated. Then a drum machine (or programming) will return to show that these guys know what to do with it when necessary.
All this back and forth can seem disjointed in theory, and even in practice the first two or three listens of
Deformity Disco can leave you confused as to what its true intentions are. Ear piercing industrial bits rise from nowhere, flowing rhythms appear and disappear, and then synths almost angrily drown out the idea that the album is, around half of the time, very much guitar (and bass guitar) driven. With time however, the album’s flow begins to reveal itself, and its ambitions, though perhaps unwieldy, make the listen that much more impressive overall. The release proves that
Sugary Sweet Machines are almost defiantly their own entity.
A darker take on the positivity that was funk is far from anything new, but
Deformity Disco gives it a feel all its own. The atmosphere the album gives off is undeniable even if at times it almost feels at odds with itself. “Delusions” is a good example of this. The song showcases a plainly played clean guitar driving and simultaneously grounding the song while a soaring lead shows it where to move next, and under these things a rumbling bass shakes all that lies above it. Once again, in theory, and maybe even for a couple of listens, these things should seem to work against each other, but with patience it becomes apparent that these strange contrasts actually support its goal.
This song is followed by the closer “Apocalypse Jam” which oddly enough sounds like it wouldn’t be out of place at the beginning of an album. This follows the pattern of stylistic choices that are likely to be a turnoff for many listeners, but more astute listeners may realize that this disjointed idea fits very well in the sense of the album. Why expect some sort of finality in a closer for an album that gives you no impression to anticipate something like that? The album almost seems to taunt you, knowing that part of you is growing tired of it, but it doubles down on its confidence that there is a larger part of you that wants to understand it. In this way, it becomes an addicting listen. You’ll want to hear it more and more in hopes that it will reveal its secrets unto you. And that’s just it; it never quite does.
Deformity Disco is at once a confusing and enthralling listen. It is not without its flaws, but its belief in itself in spite of them will have some return to it again and again just hoping that they can make things work. It’s a dysfunctional listen that creates a dysfunctional relationship between itself and the listener, but it’s aware of this fact, and it hopes that they can love each other in time.
