Bela Lugosi Is Dead according to Papa Ghede
The soundtrack to today has been Nouvelle Vague’s new album. Whilst Bande À Part is not as damn sexy or weird as their last offering – which had the deeply odd bossa nova covers of Too Drunk Too Fuck and Guns of Brixton – it is still trippy loungecore to love.
Adding to the bizarreness this time round is a definite vodou theme. Bela Lugosi Is Dead according to Papa Ghede is unbelievable. Any irony in Pete Murphy growling: ‘Undead undead undead’ in the original is more than tripled by Phoebe Toimer’s rendition. However, it also becomes deeply powerful by being set against the sex and death Haitian rhythm used to call upon the vodou lord of the graveyard.
A couple of tracks on Bande À Part have led me to being overcome by a flood of melancholia, especially Nouvelle Vague’s interpretation of Waves. Inspiring such a mood seems apposite for an album that has the most gothic packaging of all time. Trust me, the special edition CD case is like a black hole – it steals sunlight whilst seeming to shimmer like a 1980s video effect. It is also an incredibly funny album. If Billy Idol’s Dancing with Myself envisaged as a 1930s tap-dancing spectacular does not make you smile, you have obviously had even worst nightmares than me during the last 24 hours.
Adding to the bizarreness this time round is a definite vodou theme. Bela Lugosi Is Dead according to Papa Ghede is unbelievable. Any irony in Pete Murphy growling: ‘Undead undead undead’ in the original is more than tripled by Phoebe Toimer’s rendition. However, it also becomes deeply powerful by being set against the sex and death Haitian rhythm used to call upon the vodou lord of the graveyard.
A couple of tracks on Bande À Part have led me to being overcome by a flood of melancholia, especially Nouvelle Vague’s interpretation of Waves. Inspiring such a mood seems apposite for an album that has the most gothic packaging of all time. Trust me, the special edition CD case is like a black hole – it steals sunlight whilst seeming to shimmer like a 1980s video effect. It is also an incredibly funny album. If Billy Idol’s Dancing with Myself envisaged as a 1930s tap-dancing spectacular does not make you smile, you have obviously had even worst nightmares than me during the last 24 hours.
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