Ima Robot – (self-titled) — music review
I didn’t want to like Ima Robot, but just couldn’t help it. I blame it in parts: 1/2 due to its pristine new wave heavy pop-punk revamp with 1/4 devoted to Jello Biafra soundalike (and ex-rapper) Alex Ebert, 1/4 ‘cos it makes vacuuming fun. Worried it would be a one-hit wonder album, I purchased it secondhand and shelved it for almost a year. When I finally ran it through (substituting it for the disappointing new Katamari Damacy videogame background tracks) I couldn’t deny my delight. Its jump-out-of-your-seat enthusiam is sure to inspire “pen drumming” and head bopping everywhere. It’s very sinister Devo with tons of Adam Ant appeal.
The entire album is actually enjoyable and it helps that most songs never stray far beyond the 2 1/2 minute mark. It also helps that their lyrics are downright frivolous. ‘Dynomite’ was included on a pre-release sampler mix someone sent me and I haven’t tired of it since. As romantic as glam-punk can be, it states, “this old man/ he cum a lot/ it’s in your hair/ and I don’t care.. no I wanna wait for someone like you to make my life so dynamite”. ‘Alive’ is their best attempt at a boy-band ballad but is still pretty catchy. ‘12=3′ is almost Karla Devito/Breakfast Club-esque. Bonus track ‘Black Jettas’ is hilariously post-partner paranoia with ubiquitous volkswagens and ex-girlfriends.
Tracks 8 and 10 (’Philosophofee’ and ‘Here Comes the Bombs’) share supermarket diddy keyboard kitch and are about as deep and probing as their lyric subjects will attempt (they touch upon consumerism, nuclear wipe-outs, death). It’s perfect for this “sweep it under the carpet” self-involved era where the Paris Hilton proletariat are fed up with activism and altruism. Of course when it originated, Punk was not fashion but a movement and can never fully return while kids are too numb to be angry, too spoiled to be desperate. Until things change for better or worse, we’ll just have fun with bands like Ima Robot to pass the time.
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