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Review: 'FLIES, THE'
'The Temptress'   

-  Label: 'Genepol'
-  Genre: 'Pop' -  Release Date: '17th April 2006'-  Catalogue No: 'GPOOL013CD'

Our Rating:
‘The Temptress’ has an excellent looped, sampled trip-hop beginning that perversely seems to consist of several split-second cartoon endings, and is just lovely, as is the bittersweet opening line.

“Trust in me, she said”

Given the title of this release, if The Flies are attempting to gain understanding via an empathetic connection with the soul, they do this ever so well with this sultry and enticing beginning. The whole thing echoes like the track you’d lay down for an MC’s flows, but the ultra-cool textures are just a front for this defenceless surrender to female sexuality at it's most powerful.

This is a Streetcar named Desire, with a forbidden narrative played out in a steaming oppressive heat. Things could get sticky.

Some superb ‘vowelly’ rhymes are there to guide us effortlessly along the identity parade as we are given the lowdown on various femme fatale ‘types’. The record is a lounging, sprawling and delicate mixture of speeded up trip hop, desperation, and lust, with singer Sean Cook’s loose vocals in perfect sway with the groove (so hypnotic you could use it to charm snakes with).

“Just to kill time/She took the Sublime/ now she’s turning it against me”

The extended mix is stripped down somewhat, and plunges into a vacuum like space, driven along by a just a scratchy broken beat and warm bass. Splashed with samples and cosmic FX, it’s a lovely record that requires a couple of listens before it gets beyond being a mere bar soundtrack, and into something else, as the loops and gentle repetition distort amidst the shifting sands.

Kicking back in and then trancing out once more, this low-key release could sail right in one ear and out the other. However, it has a beat that is in perfect step with summer’s sticky heat. The resulting storm builds slowly, and could be thrown into the mix with ease.

It's not a sound to grab you by the lapels, but one that could sneak into your head through the back door, as it laps gently against your eardrums like the incoming tide.

http://www.myspace.com/thefliesmusic

  author: Mabs(Mike Roberts)

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