You'd expect a band whose name doubles as an insult (in Britain at least) to sound confrontational. Not so with
Githead, a post-rock super-trio comprising
Wire's
Colin Newman, spouse
Malka Spigel (ex-
Minimal Compact) and Robin Rimbaud -- aka
Scanner, telephone terrorist and
Stockhausen's favorite flâneur électronique. Notwithstanding
Githead's two-pronged guitar attack, in which the unlikely axeman Rimbaud plays
Rick Parfitt to
Newman's
Francis Rossi, the band's maiden release eschews unbridled riffage in favor of well-wrought melodic textures and economical, hypnotic patterns, buoyed by programmed beats (courtesy of "the Beat Monster") and
Spigel's bass throb. Encompassing minimalist funk,
NEU!-like repetitive grooves and dub-flavored atmospherics,
Headgit marks a departure from
Newman's assaultive, amphetamine-paced forays with early-'00s
Wire; if anything, it actually recalls that band's sound in the late '80s as it first embraced digital technology. Above all, though,
Headgit shows continuity with
Newman and
Spigel's explorations of the interface between organic and electronic musics on their solo and collaborative projects. As a vocalist,
Newman has always had three distinct modes: bolshy and shouty, snide and snarky, or simply affectless. Here he adopts the latter, sing-speaking obtuse, elliptical phrases and stringing together surreal non-sequiturs worthy of
Wire ("Rescue bin, deconstruction / Bridgewater, unique seduction"). In places, things get surprisingly funky: "Profile" bounces along atop
Spigel's one-woman,
Gap Band-sized bassline, while "Craft Is Dead" features
Nile Rodgers-style chukka-chukka guitar licks. In contrast, "12 Buildings" has a more expansive feel with ambient coloring and half-buried voice-samples (the influence of Rimbaud, no doubt). Most compelling is the instrumental "Reset," whose interlocking, minimal guitar lines evoke
Michael Rother's trance-inducing handiwork. "Craft Is Dead" might be the title of a track but, on
Headgit, the art of infectious, intelligent pop is alive and kicking. ~ Wilson Neate