Exit Planet Dust

There are fewer things I dislike more than dance music made for white boys that that like bands that play guitars. I do, I really dislike them, The Prodigy, Pendulum etc. Very few things, well maybe Muse, Muse and dance music made for white boys that like bands that play guitars, well them and the storyline in Corrie that allows a grandfather to abduct a child and have custody based on chuff all. That and the Daily Mail. Mostly the dance music thing though.
Todays commute CD, the last C, the end of a relatively short journey through the third letter of the alphabet, the last C is The Chemical Brothers debut, Exit Planet Dust.
Exit Planet Dust refers to their original moniker The Dust Brothers, a tribute to the US production duo of the same name. EZ Mike and King Gizmo, responsible for the production of the greatest and best album ever committed to digital media, the self titled debut Tenascious D.
This isn't EZ Mike and King Gizmo, this is the post lawsuit threatening Lank Ginger and Dull Bloke, The Chemical Brothers, purveyors of the finest dance music made for white boys that like bands that play guitars.
I listened to it once on the way in, in the spring sunshine, rolling through the Staffordshire A roads, it wore heavy on me, it wore very heavy on me, its repetitive beats, essentially lyricless, it was just that little bit out of step with how I was feeling.
Roll on to the afternoon journey home and I decide to give the motorway ago, my mood was bouyant and I was a little more awake. Crank up my tinny car strereo up to 11 and by crikey its a good album, its definitely a mood album and the mood was served hugely by it, from the one that says "brothers gonna work it out" you know, Leave Home, that one. Through to Song to the siren, the Dead Can Dance sampling track, up through to the rather splendid One Too Many Mornings, the Tim Burgess featuring Life Is Sweet and finally ending with the gorgeous voice of Beth Orton on Alive Alone.
Really a splendid album in the right mood, in the wrong mood it is background music to me swearing at BMW drivers. So on the way to work 1 out of 10, on the way home, 8 out of 10, lets call it an 8.




One Too Many Mornings by The Chemical Brothers