Portion Control who formed all the way back in 1979 are among the bands that I went to see live, based on hearing them on the John Peel Show back in the 80's, when they covered Iggy Pop's Funtime and Lust For Life (one song on the Peel session, one live I forget which way round it was), seeing them open for Bruce Foxton on his Out Come The Freaks tour at the Lyceum in the Strand back in the 1980's, When the bands 12"singles were in all the coolest record shops on the Kings Road. Portion Control's latest album arrived for review about a week after I had agreed to review Bruce Foxton live later this year, so it feels almost like they are in a strange tandem for me at least. This album is the first release by the band on Artoffact records and will be part of a re-issue programme that I hope includes those legendary Peel sessions. They are still led by Dean Piavani with John Whybrew manipulating the machines.
The album opens with the EBM beats and driving bassline for this rant against endless consumerism and the world of endless deceit we find ourselves trying to navigate or end up stranded in Lego land for ever more. Traitor is an anthem for our times, when all sorts of normal people are called Traitor's by the very people who are actual Traitor's to the societies they claim to hold sway over, pounding industrial beats and keyboards accompany cries of Traitor, I assume this isn't the theme tune to the TV programme, that I have avoided watching, can they save their skins or not.
Move with it's repeated lyric of "Move times up" can be seen as confrontational in a very 2020's way, even though this was originally recorded before the currently pit of despair we have fallen in, the mantra is chilling in the way it could be, a barked order from some masked marauder of an alleged law enforcement officer, hostility and confrontation at the core of this dystopian dance anthem.
Possessed makes sure you can hear the bitter twisted lyrics aimed at the controlling man at the centre of everything, he owns you, you are nothing more than his possession, in the few short years since this was originally recorded, this has got darker meanings, now we have revealed the man who wants to own the earth, his own personal fiefdom, avoid resignation and succumbing to his totality.
West and most subsequent tracks are all Short Range, West is something like a phenomenon baby, pulsing beats that don't let up and clattering noise on edges. Hold tells us there is nothing to atone for, well easy for you to say, distressed electronica, declamatory matter of fact vocals give this an unsettling edge.
Order urges you to do it now and who could resist such propulsive beats and urgings. HATEME is screaming in the dark of unsettling electronics, weird, scraped noises from the nastiest of places. Cured has a heartbeat pulse with cosmic healing tones shaping the ambient soundscape.
PK01 a hard house dance floor smash, with some cool bleeps and shattering noises. Scorn almost sounds like a tribute to the band Scorn, stripped to the core and then opening out into a distorted reality. Still is harsh EBM beats and keyboard screeds through which the muttered vocals seep menacingly. Unwanted pitch shifts the vocals, while being shot at by video games guns and phasers, unsettling and totally danceable.
Chain is the one longform song all 19 minutes plus live mix that continues the themes of Unwanted ready for one total sweatbox of a dance, propulsive beats that build and drop, mutating against the clap track, urging us to do it now, before going all jive bunny, mutating again with a harder techno edge, sirens going off engaged in the dystopian nightmare world. Things break down into an ambient late night forest ramble in the trees, voices whispering through the wind, an arcade game springs into life, beats return, I almost expect a voice to cry out Bonus Bonus Bonus, instead the keys infest everything, before the mantra there is nothing to atone for, returns to plant itself in your mind, get ready for the techno dancefloor explosion freak out, your exhausted and flop down in the chill out zone in time for the whip crack gated drums and distended beats.
Termite takes us back to the short-range versions, the menacingly chanted Termite takes us deep into a huge labyrinthine Termite city, sounds from the tunnels and chutes echo through your mind. The album concludes with Smuts the theme tune for entering a certain kind of dark room, in a very dank club, screams howls, raging drill sounds blast the visuals from your mind, what happens during Smuts stays in Smuts dark realm.
Find out more at https://portioncontrol.bandcamp.com/album/seed-ep31 https://portioncontrol.net/
