TIP OF THE TONGUE 01 AUGUST 2010
Outer Limits Recordings
Not Not Fun NNF-193
OUT OF STOCK!
Latest vinyl installment from the cracked universe of Sam Merinque of Outer Limits Recordings/Yoga/Matrix Metals/Explorers/Flashback Repository/James Ferraro’s 90210 et al. Foxy Baby is a startling proposition: it makes you wonder about the mysterious Meringue’s involvement in Ferraro’s Lamborghini Crystal project. The guitar sounds come straight out of that same microwaved zone and the lurid stylings sound like 1980s mall pop broadcast through nth generation wiped-out cassette dubs, complete with head-shredding suburban metal guitar solos, dreamy synth pop fantasies, invasions of rubbered alien vocals and hallucinatory FM radio vibes. Even some devolved takes on the furcoats and champagne style of the second Suicide album. As chillwave becomes synonymous with simply having bad taste in music, this is the real hypnagogic magic, altering consensus zombie reality via memory vague strategies and usurping lo-fi strategies. Massively addictive and strangely affecting: Foxy Baby really gets under your skin. But where does Ferraro end and Meringue (or Raphael as Ferraro insists on calling him) begin? “Of all the magical inverse-universe warp-zone pop-whiplash geniuses loosed upon the world by the shortlived Outer Limits Recordings corporation, few of them deserve their pedestal status as righteously as the Foxy Baby LP. Recorded two summers ago in Berlin amidst constant nocturnal glitter-blinded visits to extraterrestrial discotheques, the album tells the strange, fragmented story of a young weirdo artist who has an encounter with an exotic otherworldly woman (the titular Ms. Foxy Baby), becomes obsessed, loses her into the cosmic blur of the city, then slips backstage at one of her shows to find her, where they mysteriously share a final cigarette while staring out across the metropolis’ skyline, then ascend into a holy void of alien lights. Or something? The specifics are tricky to pin down, but the songs say it all: tape hiss-soaked glam-damaged new wave dream-rock anthems interspersed with tripped FX interludes of revving cars, astral bubbles, and murky sparkling echoes. A total bizarro masterpiece from one of our favorite masterpiece-makers on the planet. Lipstick-colored vinyl LPs in trashy zebra-print inner sleeves in a jacket with artwork by Mr. Outer Limits himself. Edition of 500.” – NNF. Highly recommended.