Elle Milano - Acres of Dead Space Cadets

TRACKLISTING:
1.    Laughing All the Way
2.    Meanwhile In Hollywood
3.    My Brother, The Astronaut
4.    Stepkids In Love
5.    Carousels
6.    Curiosity Killed The Popstar
7.    Katsuki & The Stilettoed Stranger
8.    I know It’s Good But I’m Playing It Down
9.    The Nightclub Is Over
10.    Wonderfully Wonderful (All The Time)
11.    This Is How It Ends



OVERVIEW:
ELLE MILANO don’t need to get your attention by shouting “Sex, sex, sex!” They stand effortlessly beyond tabloid culture’s simplistic needs. As with so many great bands before them, it’s the chemistry that exists between Adam M. Crisp (22, vocals/guitar/more), James Headley (22, drums/vocals/piano) and Chloe Joanna (21, bass/vocals) that takes ELLE MILANO way beyond their prosaic roots and ensures that, while their influences may be familiar, they’re given a vigorous, steel-wooled makeover.  ELLE MILANO are, frankly, startling, and ‘Acres Of Dead Space Cadets’ ought one day to be considered one of those classic British debut albums that smashed into the rainspattered windows of our complacent homes and changed the face of music. Of course it’s far too complex and smart for that, given our contemporary dumbed down culture and the band’s evident intellect. But let’s imagine for one magical moment that angular, articulate, angry, witty and archly knowing guitar rock was still something to aspire to. ELLE MILANO, in that parallel universe, would be the poster band for a new generation.   ‘Acres…’ is packed with huge choruses and unforgettable melodies. Abrasive riffs stand side by side with poignant melancholy while complex, epic structures sometimes forcibly batter themselves indelibly into the consciousness, at other times ensnare one with their undeniable sensitivity. It’s the raucous, rocking songs that keep grabbing you – the brilliantly named ‘Curiosity Killed The Popstar’, the crunching urgency of ‘My Brother The Astronaut’ – but it’s the tender work that lingers: ‘Nightclub Is Over’’s self-deluding chorus of “I hear that someone else is doing it for you / But hey now, I was there first”, the desolate call and response of ‘This Is How It Ends’.  So get ready for guitars to slam ribcages, bass to pound groins and drums to rattle cranial walls like prime US post-hardcore. Get ready for shiny keyboards and melodic ingenuity to seduce you with revitalized, rewired synth pop. Get ready to be soothed by heartfelt tales of late night loneliness, adolescent confusion and twenty-something disgust. ELLE MILANO is not what you expect at all.

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