Description
This finds the band at their sleazy (no pun intended) and savage best, reaching an apogee of apoplectic rage on ‘We Hate You (Little Girls)’, and has to rank as one of the most brilliant British evocations of decay and dysfunction to appear in any art form, ever. For all the P.Orridge-helmed murk, you feel Chris Carter’s presence more firmly on this album – as on the the steam-powered, laser-striped synth-wave of ‘Dead On Arrival’ and especially ‘AB/7A’, reminiscent of his recently canonized solo set The Space Between.
For all its electronic innovations, DoA also captures TG’s oft-forgotten ability to rock, as heard on ‘I.B.M.’, ‘Hit By A Rock’ and ‘Blood On The Floor’, which locate and update the essence of the Stooges and Gen’s beloved Velvets. ‘Five Knuckle Shuffle’ is as disconcertingly, flagellatingly funky as it always was, and in ‘Walls Of Sound’ you see the roots of Whitehouse and pretty much all P.E. and harsh noise that’s come since.
