Art Brut Versus Satan

Admittedly, the first thought you have when listening to Art Brut Versus Satan, the new album by British intellectual deconstructionists Art Brut, you think, oh. Of course. Another Art Brut album. Another talky-sung album about topical and banal events as cleverly observed by lead vocalist Eddie Argos, he of the Snidely Whiplash school of personal style.

But that’s what Art Brut wants you to think. Granted, the first few tracks aren’t very intriguing. “Bring Me Tea,” “Passengers” and “DC Comics and Milkshakes” all rely on upbeat punk rock background accompanied by witty commentary on immaturity and small pleasures. Then things start to pick up with “Am I Normal?” the query on every hapless psudo-stalker’s mind when he or she finds him or herself reduced to riding unnecessary buses and walking up out-of-the-way streets just to see the person they crush, only to know that any intentional contact with them would lead to paralysis and social failure (“I can’t take another broken heart/so this will be another false start”).

Midway through comes “Demons Out,” and that’s when you’ve been tricked: all your petty annoyances at the contrived style of the album are smartly addressed. “How can you sleep at night/when nobody likes the music you like?” the band wants to know. “The record buying public/we hate them/this is art brut versus satan.” This is when the listener realizes the joke’s on them: Art Brut aren’t trying to make a record that everyone is going to like. They’re making an album they like. They’re making music about why they want to make music. It’s deconstructing the music scene. “Slap Dash For No Cash” expands on this. An ode to lo-fi rock, it asks, “Why does everyone sound like U2?/That’s not a very cool thing to do.”

The thing about Art Brut is that they’re making music about music. Nothing on Art Brut vs. Satan is as catchy as Bang Bang Rock N Roll, or even the dancier singles of It’s a Bit Complicated. This is more a thinker’s album. “The Replacements” is, essentially, a song about the entire album. Using a rather Replacements-esque riff, the song is about the simple pleasure of finding out about such an amazing, long-since disbanded group, long after the era of youthful rock and roll discovery should be over. The song makes a case for used records as a fantastic investment: Art Brut doesn’t even really care if you buy or steal their record or get it from your friend. They’re about the way people get involved in rock and roll in the first place. They’re about celebrating those chords that inspire a person to think “I can do this.” In a way, Art Brut Versus Satan serves as footnotes to their own career.

Argos has an impressive talent at taking very small but vital thoughts about youth, maturity, and the effect rock and roll has on some of us and articulating them in a very clever way. He’s the spokesperson for the fan. Ages ago, on their debut single, “Formed a Band,” Argos stated, “Yes, this is my singing voice,” and it remains true. He’s like a Leonard Cohen for the lo-fi punk rock set. This isn’t an album that will necessarily translate for first-time fans, but it’s still a great addition to every music geek’s collection.