Easily My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult's finest hour, and a deliciously trashy and fun fusion of things few outside of the Throbbing Gristle/Soft Cell-family tree tried to combine -- industrial/goth posing, dancefloor campiness, and Vegas/lounge comfort and sleaze -- Sexplosion! never forgets to entertain. McCoy and his crew of characters balanced just enough semi-mainstream accessibility, captured in particular with the nutty stomp and leer of "Sex on Wheels" -- with what had already gone into the Thrill Kill Kult mix to ...
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Easily My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult's finest hour, and a deliciously trashy and fun fusion of things few outside of the Throbbing Gristle/Soft Cell-family tree tried to combine -- industrial/goth posing, dancefloor campiness, and Vegas/lounge comfort and sleaze -- Sexplosion! never forgets to entertain. McCoy and his crew of characters balanced just enough semi-mainstream accessibility, captured in particular with the nutty stomp and leer of "Sex on Wheels" -- with what had already gone into the Thrill Kill Kult mix to whip up something that was the far less angst-ridden flipside to, say, Pretty Hate Machine or Psalm 69. Not that the group isn't worried about certain matters in life, but those matters consist mostly of who is doing whom and whether or not there will be enough spangles, muscle boys, and cocktails available. "A Martini Built for Two" is especially great, crystallizing an easy listening/exotica revival that is far away from the navel gazing of the likes of Combustible Edison, but with all the groovy keyboards and brass sections one could want. Meanwhile, plenty of other songs like "The International Sin Set" and the John Barry-sampling "Mood No. 6" -- nice use of some of the lesser known James Bond music, though the Thunderball theme crops up elsewhere -- recapture a swinging '60s/spy movie sass and pump it full of electronic beats and static-distorted vocals. TKK's more straight-up dance music origins aren't forgotten. "Leathersex" and "Princess of the Queens" weld the expected crisp beats to Chicago house piano and abbreviated diva vocals (McCoy's drawl sounds perfectly in its element on the former track), while the title track plays around with sampled voices of authority, another perfectly familiar gambit. Then, of course, there's "Sex on Wheels" itself -- as compressed and propulsive a celebration of fornication and driving as anything else America has ever come up with. ~ Ned Raggett, Rovi
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