The much-quoted epithet “writing about music is like dancing about architecture”, which may or may not have been first uttered by the late, great Frank Zappa, is never more applicable than when a scribe is presented with a dance record. The sole intention of Grum, aka Leeds-based Scot Graeme Shepherd, is to fill a club with revelry, not to flick the switches of the critical consignetti. His music is a gateway to release for the everyman, not the preserve of the muso.
Which is not to say this is a bad record – it’s far from that. This is a great record in the right circumstances – a great record with giant disco balls hanging from its extremities, stupidly dangerous heels on its feet and a row of neon shots lined up before it.
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