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Icky Blossoms – Icky Blossoms

Nicola Sloan


You might remember that in the last few years, and up until quite recently, there was something of an eighties revival in music, with many otherwise perfectly rational artists taking on board synthesisers alongside the more traditional guitar, bass, drums and vocals combo in their sound. You might have thought that was all over; thought you’d never want to hear another synthesiser again, but then along came Icky Blossoms.

Describing themselves as a ‘Human League for a new generation’, I’m happy to say that Icky Blossoms do not take the name of the once asymmetrical-haired god that is Phil Oakey in vain. Their sound encompasses all the sleaze and glamour and outright catchiness that such a bold comparison would inspire in the minds of listeners.

The Human League inspiration is plain to hear in the male/female vocal combination, the dark moody synths and the lyrics too. It’s the same kind of sexed up electronic din that the League conjured in their day, but with a 21st century update, with stabs of guitar here and there that are reminiscent of more modern contemporaries. The sound is more urgent and frenetic, shadowing our more impatient, internet-ridden world.

The sound of Icky Blossoms is like heroin for the mind; addictive, hallucinatory and probably not good for you. It exudes a kind of metropolitan, hedonistic glamour, which comes across in the song titles: Sex To The Devil, Burn Rubber and Temporary Freakout to name a few. You get the idea.

The songs are hook-filled, synth-laden, sequencer-styled brilliance. The half-sang, half-spoken vocals of Sex To The Devil remind of a Vogue-era Madonna. Then there’s the sashaying glamour of Babes, which was made for catwalk models to strut to. Temporary Freakout, with its vintage kaleidoscopic synths will hook into your brain and then stay there for days on end. Final track Perfect Vision blurs into slumberous dream pop territory; the part where the eighties merges into the nineties (maybe a lead onto their next album?)

This is a solid album; perfect length, no filler, every song will enter your brain through your ears and run through your veins, leaving you wanting more. I really can’t say anything bad about this album, except perhaps that it’s not that original, but when it’s this good, who really cares? I look forward to hearing more from Icky Blossoms in future (even though they’ve got a silly name).


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