Belgian quartet MILLIONAIRE'S pair of brilliant recent singles "We Don't Live There Anymore" and "I'm On A High" served us notice that they would probably be supplying us with something exotic and special when album time finally rolled around.
And the frantic, fascinating and heavy-as-fuck excitement of "Paradisiac" soon demonstrates they indeed had reserves of excellence to draw upon. Indeed, such is the quality of most of the tracks that you begin to wish frontman Tim Vanhamel hadn't indulged producer Josh Homme for so long with their side-project Eagles Of Death Metal. But I guess that's another story.
Anyway, to recap, both "I'm On A High" and "We Don't Live There Anymore" give you some idea what to expect. The former is driven on by Dave Schroyen's megapound drums, Pere Ubu-style synth manipulation and Vanhamel revelling in that hedonistic kiss-off line "Lots of free time for us to blow!", while "We Don't..." lurches forward on Bas Remans' queasy basslines and grubs around in the most irresistibly grotesque dark rock sounds imaginable. Both are tumultuous, but by no means exclusive in the excitement stakes here.
Indeed, if you want to immediately discover just how impressive "Paradisiac" is, then make for "A Lust Unmatched": a frenetically hectic, motorik affair where a lethal acid bath of electronica bubbles beneath strafe-ing guitar riffs and a genuinely chilling atmosphere. It's the kind of electro-rock crossover U2 attempted with "Mofo" from the under-rated "Pop", but Millionaire execute it with a deadliness that's breathtaking. No wonder Josh Homme himself is amazed their music "can be so heavy and danceable at the same time."
And he's not wrong, for "Paradisiac" is often torn brilliantly between the urge to connect at both gut and brain level - often within the space of the same song. Of course it helps the band themselves are usually on incredible form, with Vanhamel proving himself to be the master of the distorted breezeblock riff, the Remans/ Schroyen rhythm twisting and turning like eels in a storm drain and Aldo Schruyf's keyboards usually making like hissing steam pipes and malfunctioning space invaders machines than, er, organs and synthesizers.
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And they manage to combine these elements brilliantly on virtually all the songs here, whether it's on upbeat hipswingers like the zigagging riffs and Glam-carnival atmosphere of "Streetlife Cherry" and the QOTSA-meets-Mission Of Burma cruise that is the exhilarating "Love Is A Sickness" or on doomed, almost-ballads like the enigmatic "Rise And Fall" and the surprising "Ballad Of Pure Thought" where acoustic guitars and soft-sucking loops crawl under the razor wire and Tim sings affecting lines like "If only I could feel a little better, take away these ugly thoughts" in a vulnerable voice uncannily like Elliott Smith.
OK, they can push your patience a little, especially towards the end with the challenging, oblivion bound "Wake Up The Children" (and yeah, it will) which makes like the intro to The Stranglers' "Straighten Out" amplified about a kazillion times and again with the concluding "A Face That Doesn't Fit" which flirts with both Motorhead-size riffs and Struyf's electro-misinformation and makes for the chequered flag with the angels and devils still battling it out.
Nonetheless, this is a relatively minor quibble and does little to weaken the overall impact of one of the year's most intense and powerful albums. Indeed, while Millionaire may be lucky enough to have the ever-talented Josh Homme in the producer's chair, we musn't make the mistake of damning them with faint praise by association. "Paradisiac" is one mean, compelling critter and on that you'll be enthralled by as you fail to tame it.
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