Fun Fact: Sketched out old dudes that have a penchant for loud, drunken, incoherent rambling amuse me. Thus, the infamous Mark E. Smith, who has the practice down to a science, greatly amuses me, indeed. He also simultaneously depresses me because damn, he’s old and crazy now. No one does the whole inebriated-and-amphetamine-addled thing better than Smith, who has spent the better part of the last 3 decades honing this skill with the ever-rotating Fall cast. In fact, the only way this activity could be any more entertaining is if he chattered aimlessly over something with a robot beat, maybe even something I could, dare I say, dance to. But fuck, I never expected this would actually happen. So when I heard that he teamed up with Mouse on Mars (whose 2006 release, Varcharz, was one of my top 5 records of last year) under the name Von Sudenfed and recorded a messed up, incoherent, alcohol-soaked electronic album, my first thought was: best. album idea. ever. File under: Things That Shouldn’t Exist, But Do. See also: Mark E. Smith, Possible Cyborg, Part 1 of 6.

I figured that the record would either be pure genius or a complete flop, but in reality it hovers somewhere in the middle, never really achieving anything record-breaking and never really sucking, either. Smith’s voice, which I’m so accustomed to hearing over loud, crunchy punk riffs, actually sounds surprisingly at home amid the electronics. The opening track, “Fledermaus Can’t Get It,” showcases everything that is absolutely right about this album: dirty electro-noise/robot disco paired with Smith’s legendary jumbled free-associating. The song is fun as hell and needs to be playing in clubs now. DJs take note, please and thanks.

Most of the other tracks fall short of the opener, however, and much of the time I just want Smith to pipe the fuck down so I can hear Mouse on Mars better. Make no mistake, Mouse on Mars is by far the best thing about this record. For the most part, Smith just sounds like he’s interrupting an awesome track with nonsensical bullshit, which, as I mentioned, both entertains me (i.e. I’m amused at the expense of Smith and drunken weirdos everywhere), but also depresses me (i.e. another musical legend embarrasses himself in his old age. *cough*Robert Smith*cough*). Seriously though, the dude makes no sense whatsoever anymore. And not in a good way. An awkward way. His verbal diarrhea is funny at first but, much like real diarrhea, it just ends up causing stomach cramps and a deep feeling of emptiness. Lyrical example, culled from the track “Chicken Yaiamas” : “They said boil the chicken. I said no, I cannot boil the chicken. Yaiama! Yaiama! Yaiama!” Seriously? What? The third track, “Flooded,” starts off well enough with an awesome dance beat, but then goes on to feature Smith yelping “I flooded the club! Flooded! Flooded! Flooded!” which sounds as retarded as it looks in print, I assure you. Essentially, one of Smith’s best characteristics, his classic stream-of-consciousness vocal delivery, is also this particular album’s downfall. Oh, irony, you are a cruel mistress.

It’s a record one shouldn’t think too hard about. View it as a fun experiment and leave it at that. If nothing else, the juxtaposition of these artists is probably one of the more interesting musical ventures of the year. I support experimentation and all that junk. And while it’s definitely not the greatest album ever recorded, it’s an album you should probably hear. Plus Mouse on Mars delivers an absolutely flawless set of noisy dance tracks that shouldn’t be missed. If you try very very hard, you can tune out Smith and find yourself listening to an ace record. But don’t strain yourself; he is, for better or worse, nearly impossible to ignore.

Also, note to Mouse on Mars: release a version without the vocals, please and thanks.

Release date: May 21, 2007
Record label: Domino
Rating: 6/10

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