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Xtrmntr, Primal Scream
Music, Justin Harries, 20 January 1999 Rating: F4


‘Exterminator’ has been read as a swan song for Creation records. Now mister Magee has dispensed with all things material and gone cyber, the label that gave us My Bloody Valentine, Oasis and William Shatners back catalogue is, alas no more. But if ‘Exterminator’ is the end – well, there’s nothing like going out with a bang.


And what a bang! For once Gillespie and co live up to their moniker. The album rips out of the speakers and gives your arse the damn good hiding it deserves. This is what rock 'n roll is meant to do, however, with the welter of turgid brit rock one has had to endure recently, I had kinda forgotten. And this from a band that titled their first album ‘Sonic Flower Groove’.


Primal Scream is really Bobby Gillespie, a man with a serious record collection. With a love of music and an even deeper lover of the antics that rock 'n roll inspires, Bobby's presence means the Scream are one of the most transmutable bands we have, crossing the boarders of dance, rock and more genres of music that Everett True could regurgitate. Weedy of voice and not exactly the world’s greatest dancer, the man is more of a nexus, an inspirer and all-round Mr Motivator.


First up, perhaps one of the laziest heroes of rock 'n roll, Kevin Shields. The force behind the adrogenous, guitar warping antics of My Bloody Valentine, Shields has been lying low of late, but here he takes up the task of mix master on a few tunes – to stunning effect. With its constantly rising pulse and a tune so deep fried in distortion that it becomes almost opaque, 'Accelerator' most resembles that MBV sound, but instead of being scorched to the point of obliteration, Gillespie imbues the song with flailing rock excitement. "Come on" indeed. 'MBV Arkestra' could have been tailor made for me, and really does come up with the goods the title promises. The territory is outer space; not the serenely gliding emptiness of outer space, but the oppressive, vertigo inducing terror the infinite can inspire.


Also camped out with Gillespie is Mani, bass workhorse from the defunct Stone Roses, whose meaty low end tracts bring to mind Joy Division, quite apt, for also on the ride is a certain Bernard Sumner. David Holmes brings an exotic flavour to ‘Blood Money’, whilst the Chemical Brothers do their thing with a remix of ‘Swastika Eyes’, revealing the chorus, with its combination of violin and cheep bleeps, to be rather charming.


As crass as it sounds ‘Exterminator’ is the album of the millennium, in fact, it is the only rock 'n roll album of the millennium. Frazzled as fuck, its over saturated colours bleeding to garish effect, the album takes no prisoners. No one can escape the rays of this particular weapon. Prepare to be exterminated.



Geffen

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