There really isn’t a better name for the debut LP from NOLA-hailing, self-proclaimed “future pop” group The Convenience than Accelerator. This is because the band are drawing from an era of music that felt like it was prying open the aperture to a new world and plunging forward into a new world.
Artists as varied as Genesis to Prince and the Revolution looked at the future like it was an open manuscript, full of blank pages and begging to be filled with their dreams and aspirations. It might seem corny now, but it’s worth doing the trowel work to excavate catalogs of these visionaries in order to see things from their perspective, even in this more cynical age of ours—if for no other reason than to discover some fun and exotic sounds, and maybe even to sift out a kernel of hope for our own future—like a speck of gold in a prosector’s pan.
And if this is the goal for today, to find some bright and imaginative work of art, in order to pierce the angry clouds of anxiety that loom above us, like the shadow of an on-rushing avalanche, you really can’t do much better than The Convenience’s first single off of Accelerator. The two-part title track begins with a sunny and full-bodied bass line which lifts, and holds aloft, the cool, dew-whisking vocal melodies and quaking Martian synths, like a quadrant of strong men carrying a goddess from the temple in which she resides to the throng of adoring worshipers below.
The combination of smooth, laser-cut riffs and sensuous, interlacing grooves gives the impression that some great power has descended from a place on high and relived someone of their shackles—to breathe life into a stone—consequently restoring the vigor of a once-living thing and freeing them so that they might boogie the night away. The Convenience might not be able to give answers to all your problems, but they can at least liberate you for as long as you’re capable and content to dance- which isn’t nothing in my estimation.
Accelerator is far from a one-and-done affair, though, with the entire album comprising of a bouquet of elevating and electrifying moments. From the Phil Collins-esque, wide-eyed and open-hearted romanticism of “Kiss Me In Heaven,” to the damp, sexy shudder of the neon back-lit “Fake Roses,” Accelerator really does feel like a revolution per minute. “Saturday’s Child,” with its crisp synths and swift airy melodies, has the aesthetic qualities of a diamond chandelier, twirling amongst a swarm of disco lights, above a roller rink that was once a high-society ballroom, but which a pack of wayward teens has invaded and put to productive use as a stage for late-night mischief and bonding.
“True Fascination” ripples and purrs like the engine of a low rider that runs on funk-riffs and pure champagne, while “Telephone Number” brings the temperature down to a moderate 69 °F in order to let you down easy as possible while the band makes their exit. Parting is such sweet sorrow, but the party never has to end, not so long as you’ve Accelerator rotating on your turntable.
Buy and stream Accelerator below via Bandcamp: