Review: FIGO – ‘Put It All On Black’

The Portuguese footballer that inspired the name of the band was the type of unique figure who helped to capture the imagination and define an era in his chosen field. One in a million. So just what exactly have these New York pretenders done to merit the honour of such a legendary namesake?

Prior to the release of this debut album, there was no discernible answer to this question. FIGO have been around for some five and a half years, but due largely to their relentless touring ethic, only flashes of their music have actually been heard. Now, however, things are different.

The first characteristic critics tend to look for in a new album is, fairly or not, comparisons to other artists, influences and quite often downright plagiarism. But where ‘Put It All On Black’ is concerned, even the more cynical hacks would be left staring at a blank screen with a crippling infliction of writer’s block.

This is because, quite simply, there is no distinguishable direct precedent to the type of music that FIGO have produced on this inaugural effort. Sure it is on the surface an electro record, but to dismiss it as this alone would be criminal. So deep rooted are the band’s punk influences that the finished article has provided a consummation of genres never before fused so seamlessly together.

Primal Scream have a track record of flitting between straightforward dance, acid house and rock albums. These guys have evidently decided ‘fuck it, why not have it all?’ The footprint of the aforementioned Scream Team is undeniable from the first strains of opening track ‘Plaza’, but what unfolds is a hammer blow that sounds like Iggy and the Stooges being dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century. The vocals of lead singer Parag Bhandari in particular pay homage to the leathery icon and part time car insurance salesman.

‘Faded’ provides an opportunity for the band to showcase their industrial inclinations, while ‘The Devil Knows My Name’ is an adrenaline drenched kick of blissful, unadulterated rock and roll energy that will surely leave club goers wondering whether to dance or mosh. That said, the band do double up as DJs in their spare time so they know a thing or two about how to whip up a sweat on the dancefloor.

Perhaps the most stripped down, back to basics (although still injected with a gloriously infectious and grimy bass line) punk-rock offering on the album is ‘We Will Kill You’, a song with a demeanour every bit as menacing as the title would suggest. On the other side of the coin, ‘Gunshot’ is a cut and dry pounding slice of the dirtiest underground, floor thumping electro that incorporates the sound of the title for added vitriol.

The record ends on much the same note as it kicks off with a Ramones-esque burst of raucousness in the fittingly dubbed ‘I’m Gone’; two minutes of carnage that goes some way to typifying the album as a unit. Weighing in at only seven songs and under half an hour, FIGO can rest assured that in this instance quality, not to mention originality, significantly outweighs quantity in every sense of the phrase. Five years in the making and worth every second of the wait.

Luis would be proud.

(Graham Miller)