The Body of Christ and the Legs of Tina Turner

Album Review

Frankly, Body of Christ and the Legs of Tina Turner is well summed up by its title: triumphantly kitschy, simple enough that any 13-year-old dreaming up a name for his or her imaginary band's record could come up with it, but also bound to bring out that smirk. Sometimes it plays like a new wave/pop-punk hybrid all shrouded in layers of guitar buzz, and elsewhere, it's closer to electro-clash, almost like Peaches, but with much better arrangements and its eye on good pop, not cheap shock value. Most of the time, it's both at once, though it's not as immediately gripping as it should be. It's less about hooks than about simple, fuzzy textures, both guitar and keyboard, capped with protracted rants about online profiles, getting laid, Robocop, non-vegetarian food and, of course, relationships. The F-word is applied abundantly throughout. The internet may tell you MayKay is like a banshee, but it lies: she sounds just like a cheeky girl who likes fun and takes no nonsense: think Lily Allen, or maybe even a very campy Imelda May. But the girl also has a romantic streak to her, which becomes more evident as the record progresses: "Poached Eggs," for example, is prime My Bloody Valentine, even despite the intentionally bratty lyrics, which feel like a classic teenager's attempt to hide the embarrassment of her own honesty. The overall effect from mixing shoegaze with Fight Like Apes's punkish straightforwardness is a female-fronted, sassy version of the Cure, though elsewhere, they simply go for a quiet, ruminating sound. In the end, Fight Like Apes are neither catchy nor profound enough — romantic brooding and trashy partying are mutually exclusive — but that's exactly what makes this band genuine, because that problem, after all, has never stopped generations of teens from going for both moods at once, just as Fight Like Apes do here.