This band is fun. And, in what can only be described as a triumph of literal representation, they are also actually named “fun.” Finally! What relief in this oft-confusing post-modern age. It harkens back to purer, more literal, times, before the arts regressed into the vulgar decadence of “figurative language,” when you could put on an LP by a band called “Alan Parsons Project” with absolute assurance that someone named “Alan Parsons” was involved, and that said LP would undoubtedly represent his “project.” I like that. I like knowing what is going on.
To my sensibilities, it is the utility of literal communication that is most agreeable. Indeed, because fun announced their intentions so unambiguously, I was able to prepare for the experience of listening to their cassette tape duly. I began by clearing all excess refuse out of my modest 11 x 11 foot parlor. I proceeded to adorn myself with loose-fitting garments, drawn from the earthy 5Y 4/2 and 5Y 4/4 designations of the Munsell color system, scrupulously avoiding the more disreputable 5Y 4/6. I then reconciled the thermostat to exactly 23.5 degrees centigrade. Finally, as I readied my Sharp model GF-777Z “ghettoblaster,” I adopted a measured breath, through teeth, at a consummately subdued 12 intakes per minute. I was now prepared to “blast the ghetto.” I was now prepared for “fun.”
And, oh, what fun. The songs employed the Ionian mode exactingly, and in fastidious 4/4 time signature. One particularly “fun” 5-4-1 chord resolution, at the 2:35 mark of “I Wanna be the One,” even compelled me to indulge a moment of non-literal representation. Yes, bested by the melody’s rigour, I erected my left index finger from its affixed position beneath the lateral side of my abdomen, gesturing slightly toward an undefined point approximately 12–16 inches in front of me. Simultaneously, I applied a slight two-degree anterior tilt to my head, a “nod,” as if to say, “Well played, C major chord” in some abstract way. After this, I was spent.
Modern convention requires that a “star” rating supplement this CD review. Needless to say, this causes me confusion most acute. I can only assume it is some manner of metaphor, as I doubt any reader is in possession of an Astrolobe necessary to decode such celestial formations. As such, my summative assessment is thus — Aim and Ignite is 42 minutes and 12 seconds in length. During the listening interval, I recommend enjoying a peeled Egremont Russet apple.
no rating given out of ★★★★★
