Reviews

What do the Faint think of their fans? The legion of eighties-fashion inspired hipsters who Danse Macabre at every Pabst Blue Ribbon swilling party? They must love them, because Wet From Birth is perfectly crafted to guarantee heavy rotation on the stereos of synth-loving retro party freaks. The lyrics propelled by the bouncing throwback electronica rhythms are seemly dedicated to those who might put on a pink skirt with green leg warmers, snort some drugs, and dance the night away, regardless of gender, as “I was acting indifferent at the merch booth putting on make-up” from Desperate Guys illuminates. This is more of a conscientious party record than Danse Macabre, with a more humorous/less dark take on the lyrics, and a more relaxed and playful vibe in the beats. Still, The Faint’s gritty punk roots show through, keeping Wet From Birth from being too polished or obnoxious. Dig the fat synth beats mixed in with violin and unearthly female choral vocals on Southern Belles in London Sing. That song could have been taken to a slickly produced nihilist extreme that wouldn’t provoke any response, but it is so grounded in reality that it just makes you want to get down in your basement and rock out. Really graphic songs like Erection and Birth are a little weird to boogie to however – imagine grinding with that cute girl with the asymmetrical haircut when out of the speakers booms one word: ERECTION. Thanks for calling attention to it, the Faint.