Named after Vic Darkwood and Gustav Temple's postmodernmanifesto for the modern gentleman, London's The Chap began life asKaramasov guitarist Johannes von Weizsaecker's side project—a startdocumented on their debut, 2002's 10" Fun. Since then, The Chaphave developed into a real band and added songs to the originallyinstrumental repertoire. Their sound is an arch blend of motorikrhythms, sharp riffs, languid solos, pop hooks, fat synth bass, andweird lyrics. Despite sharing with some contemporaries a fetish for newwave, post-punk, and krautrock, they manage to occupy a unique,futuristic position -- they just don't sound like anyone else. They'lloccasionally break from song structures into experimentation, and theymay baffle us with the strangeness of their subject matter, but there'sno chin-stroking austerity about them: The Chap have their tongue intheir cheek at all times.
Having played these songs live forabout a year, it's good to see that on record, rather than just layingdown their live sound, they've indulged in a bit of studiomanipulation, with both striking pan effects and microscopic sampletweaks to listen for, once again setting them at a distance from otherguitar outfits. They've also indulged their more contemplative side, ason "Volumatic Spacer Device", which ponders sagely the relative meritsof sex and asthma. This album doesn't have a bad song on it, but thestand-out track for me is the pseudo-operatic rocker "(Hats off to)Dror Frangi" (a forthcoming single), which combines a simultaneouslycharming and irritating "rah rah rah" chorus with a driving riff, totell the romantic tale of one person's need to find "samples in SMDIformat, for my Peavey SX Expander."
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