★★★

The debut album from the Brighton group blurs the lines between standup comedy and music; luckily, it’s just about funny enough to hold together.

It’s becoming hard to keep track of all the new bands swarming the alternative scene with their own unique blend of irreverent, absurdist humour and electro-clash style bedroom production. It’s a pretty apt reflection of the current climate of late stage capitalism which is so widely critiqued in contemporary liberal discourse, and dressing it up in transgressive humour makes it a pretty straightforward target to aim for. At the best of times it’s got a sleazy sheen to it that sounds as if some spun out introspects fired up their Ableton right at the height of an afters.

Strangely enough, it seems to be working. Partially because it’s making no attempt to disguise itself as culturally sophisticated art, but equally because its formulaic duality synthesises an end product that’s straightforward in its consumability. The latest group to join in on the fun is Brighton group Adult DVD, who chose to architect their own vision of postmodernist hell by introducing a multiverse of iconoclastic characters who all appear to inhabit a microcosmic universe within each song they’re introduced on. In that sense, the album runs as a sort of tongue-in-cheek comedy sketch performance, backed by a rhythm section of bouncing synths and groovy digital basslines.

Much like stand-up comedy, each song takes a swing with the hope that it lands. The success rate on Adult DVD is mixed. There are better moments in which the dialled up ludicrousness translates, offering a slightly nuanced approach with its accompanying sonics; a three track run towards the albums backend discards the electro/punk crossover formula in favour of an auxiliary take on the genre-hybrid. All I Need bursts into life with an EBM beat reminiscent of Miss Kittin and The Hacker, backed up by lyrics boasting a surplus of crucial supplies for an apocalyptic afters. Ghillie Suit runs with a stuttering breakbeat loop almost certainly plucked from the infamous Jungle ‘99 sample pack which still floats around online, and standout track Real Tree Lee described a dissident sceptic who makes his own diesel in his shed, before rising towards a massive 303 acid bassline drop.

So yeah, it has its moments. Although by this point in the album there’s already been a great deal of repetition which, if you’ve been listening to a lot of music in the Fat Dog/Getdown Services category recently, will begin to feel somewhat tiresome. A similar three track run of Minimal Criminal, Jesus Christ Supercar and Cowboy in Aisle Three are all perfectly reasonably (and a bit funny) in their execution of the transgressive electro-punk formula, but aren’t backed up by the same inventive experimentation which holds the second half of the album together. It’s the same, overly familiar combination of wobbly synths and straightforward drum patterns; if they were the first ones to do it, you’d be captivated. By this point though, it’s a well trodden path.

Adult DVD will no doubt find their own fanbase amongst the realm of intentionally vacuous DIY sonic cowboys wandering the UK right now. And make no mistake, this music will invariably translate into a chaotically brilliant live show. The hardest thing for this sub-genre is capturing the deliberate idiocy of the music into something which can sell tickets to a live gig; Adult DVD have given it a good go, and in its better moments it does work. Some festival bookings for next summer beckon, you’d have thought.