Disko Stalemate?

Savvas Pascalidis – Disko Vietnam (Gigolo 134)


[DJ] Hell’s Gigolo label is extremely polarised. Many of its artists are torn between producing more heavy-duty dancefloor tracks and the kitsch outrages loved by the most superficial electroclash followers. This often results in strange hybrids and uneasy compromises between sleaze and force. The Gigolo aesthetic is based on a type of revolt against taste – a refusal to rule out stylistic options that are generally seen as just “too much.” Given some of the outrages for which Gigolo artists have been responsible, an album called “Disko Vietnam” doesn’t seem that remarkable or offensive. In any case, it would be wrong to single out Gigolo in this respect. Vietnam long ago became a systematically over-exploited pop cultural presence and connecting a vaguely hedonistic soundtrack to the war is much less tasteless than the myriad ‘Nam TV films. Even at its most tacky, the neo(n)-retro sound promoted by Gigolo and related labels and acts is only a more honest reflection of the generalised tastelessness of our contemporary kleptoculture. Even if only unintentional, there is a certain illustrative value in such defiant tastelessness, which has actually produced some extremely memorable electronic pop tracks that also work well as documents of their time.

Pascalidis’ first Gigolo album was one of hedonistic day-glo excess that also contained a few more stylish (though still sleazy) neo-EBM tracks. Disko Vietnam looks and sounds more serious, but only up to a point. The darker track titles and blood-stained artwork suggest a conscious attempt to move on from the more naïve mode of presentation seen previously. The album as a whole illustrates the unresolved tensions of the Gigolo style, which only its most talented producers such as Hell or David Carretta combine fluently. Here, everything seems to have been muted and even slowed down and neither of the Gigolo extremes dominates. The sequencing on “Move Your Body” could make it a dynamic neo(n)-retro classic yet it’s pulled back to ordinariness by the knowingly cute vocoder vocals. “Saigon Nightmare” has some dark Depeche Mode style chords but is not nearly aggressive or dark enough to symbolise what the title suggests. In fact, it doesn’t suggest anything worse than a reasonable album that could be much stronger. “U Can Do It” and several other tracks feature what are (presumably) knowingly ironic American voice samples that again spoil tracks that would be much better as instrumentals, free of these cheap clichés. Most tracks seem curiously slow, or in some cases not slow enough – “Vanishing Point” might actually sound more distinctive as a slower New Beat style track. That said, it is worth persevering with the album, at least for the triad of “Paranoia”, “The Formula” and “Acid Cock.” These are functional, dark, EBM-disko classics that leave a mark and come close to the dynamism of the finest Gigolo tracks. Overall, it seems as if the more “serious” instrumental tracks need a little more macht, while the more tacky tracks are not quite offensive or tasteless enough, so that neither aspect of the Gigolo sound is fully present here and devotees of either extreme may be disappointed by an inconclusive engagement.