The Blue Angel Lounge - Narcotica
- Written by Kenneth McMurtrie
Wikipedia’s Blue Angel (disambiguation) page throws up some interesting & amusing cultural references. However, given that The Blue Angel Lounge are from Hagen in North Rhine-Westphalia (birthplace of no less a pop personage than Nena), I’m leaning towards the Dietrich film of the same name being an influence on the group’s name, rather than the practice of fart lighting or a type of Dutch train. One thing is for certain when it comes to their sound, though, is that they’re not unaware of the work of The Brian Jonestown Massacre and their ilk. Being signed to Anton Newcombe’s label and having his production and backing vocal help puts the seal on that.
Can they make the jump from “music bloggers’ secret” to known quantity with this their second album? Narcotica's opening (title) track is a short shoegazey instrumental that certainly tees things up well. ‘Caught Crow’ plaintively kicks off the songs proper and ups the tempo before ‘Bewitch My Senses’ comes on like the evil mirror image of The Byrds. ‘Son Of The Ocean’ achieves a flavour of eastern promise with its raga-like repetition and nursery rhyme-like lyrics.
‘Corona’ finds the quintet staring at their Beatle boots in earnest fashion once again. All nods to the BJM on the album are aimed squarely at the more drawn out and psychedelic end of the older outfit’s oeuvre and this song is no exception, save for a Ride-like guitar thrashing just before its end. Going from strength to strength ‘Delete My Ideals’ practically resurrects Nico, particularly in the vocal department, and could easily be twice its length with no chance of boredom setting in.
‘Street And Exile’ mines dark territory similar to that stalked by A Place To Bury Strangers to great effect, but at a more considered pace than that trio employ. On ‘Darklands’ the organ is set to church gothic for an eerie slice of melancholia worthy of a Hammer Horror black mass before the beat returns on ‘New Ghandi’ and the ghost of Ian Curtis wafts by.
Lastly comes ‘I Will Never’, a long and drawn out evocation of the desire to be one’s own man if ever there was one - it’ll put you in mind of 1980s Liverpool or your money back. It’s a very minor let down ending on such a note but on the strength of the product as a whole, tracking down the band’s self-titled debut and checking them out live look like worthwhile winter activities.
