Impulse buys often happen to turn up some of the most surprising results. I'd heard about The Films through various podcasts, and their low-fi obnoxiously indie pop aura appealed to me on principle. But as we all know, low-bitrate MP3s just won't do, so when the opportunity presented itself to get a hold of The Films' "Don't Dance Rattlesnake", I jumped at it with every limb I had available.
Ordering music on-line is a bit of a two-pronged thrill. The initial purchase generates the cheap consumerist thrill, and the delivery of your product weeks later is like receiving a gift, albeit from yourself. This particular album had a third hidden prong – an aural euphoria that pervaded my senses and turned me into a drooling vegetable for a little over half an hour after I put it in my CD player. The Films' "Don't Dance Rattlesnake" is like reconstituted sex, wrapped in screaming guitars and brash, yet somehow crooning vocals that simultaneously rip out your heart and offer you a game of pool.
You could probably film a documentary following the tracks from start to finish. In the same vain as some of the best albums of all time, the disc needs to be played with gapless support enabled in your music player, as it's mixed insidiously together. At times it feels like a live recording, at others like a decade old mix tape you'd find on the car floor. It's really impressive mastering compared to a number of my purchases lately, and if you're unfortunate enough to have a good pair of headphones you're doomed to a second listen.
If you like lighthearted guitar-centric "indie" music, you're in for an extra special treat. "Don't Dance Rattlesnake" is fortified, bona-fide indie rock sound in a similar vein to Hot Hot Heat's "Elevator", or Locksley's "Don't Make Me Wait". This is definitely one of those albums that while not new, is definitely on my recommended listening list for this year.