EL PRESIDENTE comes shrouded in secrecy. He has no passport, no fingerprints and no record of a birth certificate exists in any known country. He also allegedly refuses to recogise the Monarchy, the Prime Minister or the established parliament and one of his few links with the regular outside world is his coalition with fab Glaswegian label One Records, who are about to unleash his debut single "Rocket" on an unsuspecting world. Like with The Residents and Bob Log III before him, we are forced to ask the question: just who is this masked man?
"Rocket" suggests that for all his clandestine operational skills, his air of mystery will appeal to the laydeez, big-style. It's a flashy, totally addictive disco-glam stomper with a "hi-yi-yi-yi" chorus that burrows under your skin with a tapeworm-style tenacity and pounds along on a squelchy, four-square beat that makes like Black Grape snogging Har Mar Superstar round the back of the gasworks. Slightly squalid, it may be, but like I say, horribly addictive.
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"Rocket", then, is the sound of El Presidente amassing his first legion of troops. More of this, and his (hopefully) bloodless pop coup may yet come to fruition. The palace gates may hold firm for a while yet, but "Rocket" is leaving the launch pad with heatseeking abilities.
Houston: we have lift-off!
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