Hercules and Love Affair “Hercules and Love Affair” Review
Pitchfork referred to Hercules and Love Affair as “a compelling new voice in American dance music.” The act’s music is so deeply rooted in club culture that with its debut release it has retreated into club’s history to find what may be the next great sound. Surely disco is an influence, but is it the band’s singular driving focus? Would we be ready for it if it were? Here are four reactions, four impressions, four takes on Hercules and Love Affair’s Hercules and Love Affair.
Pull out your dad’s old polyester suits, grow back your chest hair, and get a respectable coke habit: disco is back in town. Brooklyn’s Hercules and Love Affair are spearheading the movement with their self titled debut: a record that assuredly Larry Levan is spinning in his grave (get it?). With four on the floor beats, throbbing synths, and sexy syncopated basslines: HaLA is giving the kids a reason to dance again. The already legendary “Blind” is looking to be one of the biggest songs of the year, thanks in part to Antony Legarty’s one-of-a-kind vocal skills and some catchy trumpet lines. “Hercules Theme” is close behind, a track that sounds like it comes from a moodier, sexier KC and the Sunshine Band. Some darker tracks bring a Chicago House element to the mix as well, particularly “Time Will” and “You Belong;” these tracks form a good counterbalance to what could have been a fairly formulaic disco album. “Time Will” is perhaps the most interesting example, utilizing an orchestration of beats as well as the beautifully interwoven vocals of Legarty and Andy Baker. Overall this is a pretty good dance album. Worthy of the massive hype? Maybe not. But not bad, all the same. [Jon Behm]
Hercules and Love Affair do not screw around with integrating disco into modernity—they just go for it. While being mostly fluid, the duo’s self titled debut still reeks of that 1970′s dancefloor style, not to mention the disco-influenced pop of the early 1980′s that was altered by people like Madonna and her man Jellybean Benitez. But…the album leaves me scratching my head. Do I like it? Do I hate it? Irrelevant: I’m just trying to GET it. With the voice of Antony Hegarty of Antony and the Johnsons among the vocalists, it’s a boutique album that undoubtedly will be heard booming over a soundsystem at any niche retailer that fancies itself “with it” and hip. While the album’s lead single, “Blind” starts out not unlike a cover of “Turn the Beat Around,” it ends up as a cross between Donna Summer’s swan song “Hot Stuff” crossed with Blur’s “Girls & Boys” bass line, all while Antony’s transcendent vocals are smothered under a pile of steaming disco gravy. Regularly this album is all about its technicalities and atmospheric sound, undercutting what are very strong showings from its assorted voice talents. What you are left with is an album that is sonically sound and perfectly primed to be great, but ultimately leaves it doomed to be forgettable. The truth is, there is something I like about it. Can I put my finger on it? Nope. Will I pull it out and listen to it again? Your guess is as good as mine. [Review by guest contributor Jen Paulson]
That little part of my heart that still has a soft spot for Slayer inevitably gawks at the idea of even remotely enjoying an album like Hercules and Love Affair. The album’s songs, which almost continually neglect any sort of climactic high, blend seamlessly into a single epic pile of retro-reaching Euro-trash waste…but, they kind of grow on you. They band is musically sincere, aurally satisfying and it acts as one of the few diversified groups in a landscape steadily influenced by Chromeo knockoffs…as if Chromeo weren’t average enough, y’know. What I question when hearing the album isn’t its pretentious modernism, but rather what might be below the chinks in its otherwise glaringly hipster shell. Does music have to sound timeless to be relevant, certainly not, and Hercules and Love Affair certainly sounds far from timeless. But like Slayer there is a denseness to its sound that aggressively denounces its mainstream appeal. Yes, this music is perfect for a club setting, but only certain clubs…the lady who sits next to you at work isn’t heading out to ladies night to request “Blind” – she still probably wants to hear “Pour Some Sugar on Me” and and butt-load of Nickleback…just how it is…(not that that’s bad either). It is kind of a shame however, because “Blind” is one of the best tracks on the album and deserves to be heard by a broad audience. All that in mind, just as with a band like Slayer, I’m not too sure that there’s a whole lot below the surface…hipster or the latter…which is why I imagine I’ll be giving them about as much of my listening time as I do Slayer…which would be to say almost none. [
It would be easy to put together a neo-disco album based solely on the camp value, rehashing archetypes and genre clichès and then waiting for the cool kids of the world to eat it up. The shock value of “yo it’s 2008 and I’m listening to disco” would be enough to get people talking, but this album really transcends that and stands on its own two feet musically. That isn’t to say that it’s an instant classic. After all, it is neo-disco. Carefully arranged, sonically adventurous and well-done neo-disco, but neo-disco nonetheless. Don’t expect mind-blowing lyrics, for instance. But as dance music, Hercules and Love Affair succeeds on the strength of its multi-layered arrangements, particularly the use of horns. The different vocalists play off one another’s strengths as well, making the album cohesive yet consistently surprising. Most interestingly, the album manages to capture the cold, ultimately sad something within the triumphant dance rhythms that disco music of years past captured. While it’s party music, it’s less joyful than it is frenetic, playing with both the positive and negative aspects of escapism. There’s something more complex and sinister simmering just beneath the surface, which really adds to the music. Then again, I might just be overanalyzing since I don’t like to dance. [Kyle "Guante" Myhre]
