Fucking Champs - VI

It is a weird notion, to my ears at least, that the Fucking Champs start to sound like Ratatat - the rather popular US duo on XL Recordings that specialise in instrumental duels between a slide guitarist and a digitally connected, electronically equipped keyboard wizard. Originators come across as impostors all of a sudden. It seems as if Ratatat taught a few lessons in coherence to those who, in the first place, inspired this duo. Without any further digital yahoo though, the Fucking Champs ought to be the band to prick up the ears of those college radio weblog types of spotty 20-year olds in the US. The Fucking Champs will simply hit you for six. The Fucking Champs are middle-aged men whose ferocious treatments of guitar snares do sound better reproduced on LPs anyway. The aggressive nature of their songs will provide an inspiration to those devotees of contemporary instrumental rock, as they strum and hit chords as if they're all free to do what they want. Well ,they are in their own right of course, skinny men as the sleeve portrays them standing next to one another in a desert, putting up a mighty battle. Unlikely to break new grounds, the Fucking Champs - given the limits of their self-defined sound - will nevertheless re-arrange the scales of your thought process. The Fucking Champs still touch on 'VI' on new territory. Be it math-rock or whatever, their trade-mark spurs still, however, provide some glorious moments in time.

Track Listing:-

1 The Loge
2 Abide With Me
3 Spring Break
4 Fozzy Goes To Africa
5 Insomnia
6 A Forgotten Chapter In The History Of Ideas
7 That Crystal Behind You? (Are You Channeling)
8 Play On Words
9 Champs Fanfare
10 Earthen Sculptor
11 Dolores Park
12 Column Of Heads