Bounce At The Devil

First things first. My neighbours hate this fuckin’ album! Or rather, my neighbours hate me because of this fuckin’ album [“Dear Occupant, We’d like to refer you to Rule No. 5 in the resident’s charter about noise levels after 9pm...”]. Unfortunately, I’ve discovered that the best – nay only – way to listen to Bounce at the Devil is at full thumping blast. The fourth long-player from Dublin’s Republic Of Loose has many subtleties (which I’m still discovering around listen ten), but it sure ain’t subtle. As with previous ROL efforts, this is like a trip through the dial of rock, funk, blues, techno, gospel, soul and dance. Only now the emphasis is on dance, and they’ve turned it up to ‘eleven’.
When it comes to writing the (next) history of Irish music, the inimitable ROL will deserve a chapter all of their own. They’ve been often criticised for sounding “too American,” but these Dubliners have never apologised for wearing their influences on their record sleeve. This time round they’ve gone direct to source. Much of the album was recorded in UNKLE producer Steve Wright’s Baltimore studio, with the finishing touches added in Dublin.
When asked earlier this year what kind of music was influencing the recording, frontman Mick Pyro answered: “Mostly club. Blaqstarr is great. Also DJ Booman, Rod Lee, DJ Scotty B, Tittsworth, K-Swift, R.I.P., Murder Mark, and also people like Dwizz and Emynd and DJ Sega. We have also been influenced of late by Washington Go-Go music, particularly of the latter Slow Bounce variety, bands like Total Control Band and Game-Ova band. Kudoro from Lisbon and Angola, early Miami bass, Funk Carioca and the great Kid 606. Also people like John Tejada from Europe and traditional Irish music.”
This melange of musical influences and styles has resulted in a full-on party album, with lots of warped harmonies, belted gospel choruses, and memorable guitar riffs (most particularly on ‘Is This Not What You Wanted?’). Last I heard, the famously bacchanalian Mick Pyro had given up the sauce, which may well explain its hi-energy vibe. Vocally, he’s on fire here, sounding sleazier than ever (though on ‘99’ he does a good Eminem impression, and he sounds eerily like Grace Jones on ‘Mezmefried’).
First cut ‘The Man’ opens with Pyro crooning, “This song is a pop song/ And it’s all about the man/ Oh it’s not very controversial/ And it’s easy to understand.” Cue some great female backing vocals, faux-intense rapping, and some videogame style sonics. It’s light, fun, and irritatingly brilliant.
Elsewhere they sound a lot dirtier, dishing up some properly filthy aural sex. What other Irish band would call a song ‘Ded Prostitutes’? The dubious spelling is continued on tracks like ‘My Heroez’ and ‘Mezmefried’. And I suspect they’re being somewhat sarcastic on the excellent ‘I Love The Police’. The trad influence can be heard on ‘She’s So Evil’, which features a whistle playing over phatty beats and drum loops. “What kinda man would I if I put evil in a pop song?/ Turn it into a silly nursery rhyme so that everyone can sing along.”
All told, this is a devilishly, decadently, defiantly great album from one of the most interesting bands this country has ever produced. I fully expect Republic Of Loose to be playing (the sleazier side of) Vegas within three years.