If I was a vampire now, I'd expect some pale-skinned flunky to be carrying a glistening ghettoblaster behind me, pumping out these tunes. The Vasquez guy who writes and performs this stuff comes from the Mojave desert, they say. Weird how he makes sounds that feel as though they should be issuing from some dank urban basement disco, while the Brooklyn kids are making music that impressionist painters would have on their walkmans as they painted the desert stars. No-one's happy with what they've got these days.
This is a four-track EP and it's all Ferraris on the beachside freeways, tops down and jaws steeled with a spectral Zombie apocalypse backdrop. "Alive" tugs on that delicious Gothic thread that has snaked its way through all the pallid junk from Sisters of Mercy and The Cure to The Horrors. Distorted Billy Idol yelps and all. "Total Decay" has big Gary Numan drums and creepy synth and a chain-mailed fist at the wheel.
It's the West Coast/Lost Boys disaster films that never got made because it freaked out the studio bosses. California is sliding into the sea and it's all San Andreas' fault. (Oh, dear.)
PlusMoon is one of those words that always rocks. Like Wolf.
Rating: Keep out of Direct Sunlight
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