The Go! Team, Thunder, Lightning, Strike
A cut-and-paste sampling party.
The Go! Team's debut Thunder, Lightning, Strike doesn't renege on its title's electrifying promise. A rambunctious and joyous set that juxtaposes a whole slew of eras and genres, it was almost universally lauded upon its release in 2004. At root, it's a cut-and-paste sampling party, planned and hosted by Brighton, England's Ian Parton — the kind of shindig that could make even the most gloomy of Radiohead fans lighten up. Double Dutch-style playground chants; Bollywood strings; old-school hip-hop; cop show themes; Blaxploitation funk motifs and various live instruments including electric guitar, melodica and harmonica — Parton blends these and other ingredients to deliciously cheering effect.
Prior to assembling the three boys and three girls sextet that toured TLS with Franz Ferdinand in 2004, Parton, then working as a TV documentary maker, assembled much of the album in his parent's kitchen. Unsurprisingly, it's a lo-fi affair that concentrates on maximising its "eureka!" moments rather than getting bogged-down in fine-tuning. The distorted recorders that ride breakbeats on “Get It Together”; the positivity-and-trumpets-laden chorus of “We Just Won't Be Defeated” — such are the treats to savour on a work that conjures a loose-limbed jam between De La Soul, John Barry, Issac Hayes and the gal rappers on Malcolm McLaren's 1983 album “Duck Rock.”
Pleasingly, the Go! Team's two drummers mostly favour an energizing splashy /crashy approach, and Nkechi Ka, AKA Ninja's raps pack an infectious euphoria throughout. By the time the banjo-led instrumental “Everyone's a VIP to Someone” brings things to a rolling, wide-screen conclusion, one's joie de vivre and rejuvenation buttons have been given a good firm push.
Back in the day, Rolling Stone and Time gushed about Thunder, Lightning, Strike, welcoming it as the kind of energizing, feel-good record that Saturday nights were made for. Danceable, celebratory, irreverent and above all fun, it continues to offer welcome respite from indie's sizable glut of angst-ridden, morose fare.
