Review Summary: Unapologetically loud and weird, but don't take it too seriously
The Horrors are an aptly named band, and their horrifying (pun absolutely intended) mix of garage punk, and shock rock as stylized by The Misfits and Dead Kennedys before them, made them one of the most unique new artists of 2007. Their music is intentionally as lo-fi and screeching as can be, and singer Faris Badwan's ghoulish growl penetrates your ears like a knife being embedded into your flesh. It's got its fair share of campiness and some may disregard the album as nothing more than a cheap gimmick made to attract a bunch of emo teenagers who think their lives are meaningless black holes. But there's more to it than that, and even though The Horrors may not really care about their music, you might.
In an era where rock bands are noted as much for their musical output as they are for their hair, makeup, and outfits, The Horrors brought with them a reminiscent 1970s goth/punk style. Their hair was huge and ratted, their eyeliner was messily applied on purpose, and their skinny jeans were tight enough to cut off their circulation. Surely this is enough for them to be big; the same formula has worked on countless bands in the past. But the one thing they lack is perhaps the most pivotal factor; the soul...the conviction. These days, it's cool for musicians to be nonchalant and rather uninterested, even, in their work. But what so many fail to realize is that if they don't give a damn about their music, then listeners probably won't either. And this is the main drawback of "Strange House" and the band in general; they make a career for themselves out of being weird and different for the sake of being weird and different.
For someone who probably thinks too much when listening to music instead of just enjoying it (I lop myself into this category at times), this can be really distracting, and it was for much of the album. But every so often, a really stellar track begins to play, and nothing else really matters. All I care about anymore is how long it will take for the brutal guitar shreds to destroy my headphones. Songs like 'Jack the Ripper', 'Count in Fives,' and 'Sheena is a Parasite' stand out on an album where every track essentially is the same sound over and over again; that same freaking organ, those pounding and low-key drums, clattering guitars, and frantically freaky vocals.
While The Horrors' formula is not necessarily new and seems overdone even by the end of their debut album "Strange House," these mascara-laden, ratty-haired British goth kids know what they're doing. It's most likely intentionally camp, and is just for fun. This album is loud and unrelenting; its composers, five soulless social outcasts, wear their influences on their leather jackets and just wanna rock out without having to think. Don't take them too seriously; they don't want you to.
