Dag för Dag
Let’s put the Raveonettes and Bongwater in a room.
No food, no water, only cocaine. Until they die. And record it. Boo could be the result of that very singular and twisted experiment. It brings to mind the age-old reaction to scientific freakery - ‘just because you can do it, that doesn’t mean you should’. There’s no humour, no genuine sparkle. Maybe that’s the coke. . . anyway, it all looks the part but the music falls well short. And don’t get me started on the lyrics: ‘you want to comfort me / like a cat in a tree’ ? ‘If I had you in front of me / on my back I’d be. . .hands and knees’? Someone’s been raiding the Oxford Book of Sixth-Form poetry, again.
Perhaps you’re supposed to be taken along by the sexy swing of it all. And well you might, if your concept of sexiness comes from watching American TV shows set in hospitals. Otherwise, you may find it as alluring as a horny traffic warden. Boo-hoo.