Scanners, Violence Is Golden

Ladies and gentlemen, back from the dead, I give you…the triumphant resurrection of Elastica! Okay, so that’s not quite true; yes, on Scanners’ debut disc, Violence Is Golden, there is indeed a serious resemblance to those ’90s Brit-popsters, particularly in the sleek, sensual feel of the songs, and bassist/singer Sarah Daly definitely has the same kind of charisma as Elastica frontwoman Justine Frischmann. She’s got the same sexy-but-detached vibe going on, and that vibe ends up being a large part of the reason Violence Is Golden works as well as it does — in less capable hands (like, say, those belonging to Shirley Manson), lyrics about “joy machines,” only living when you’re on-screen, and following your lover through a darkened dream-world could come off as trite and stupid. Here, they don’t.

So, looking beyond the initial Elastica flashback, what is there? Quite a bit, actually. The music on Violence swings between goth-rock and pop, skipping blithely through styles but keeping a murky undercurrent of fear and danger running beneath, a little bit like the dystopian pop of fellow Brits Placebo or Muse. Daly’s voice lends to the feel, as well, leaping from sultry and alluring to urgent and desperate and back again with barely a scratch. Along with Frischmann, her vocals remind me of Debbie Harry’s, a feeling that gets stronger with the heavy dose of nü-New Wave electro-rock á la The Killers or Interpol that’s injected into the band’s overall sound, most evident on tracks like “Joy,” “Air 164,” or “Raw.”

On “Lowlife,” the first single off the disc — and without a doubt, the best track — old-school indie-drone guitars drive the song gently along while Daly pleads and cries beautifully; it’s an addictive burst of melancholy pop, and it’s already got me coming back for repeated listenings. Other standouts include “In My Dreams,” a sinister, foreboding bit of gothiness that’s downright spooky even when it rocks out; “Bombs,” a speedy, catchy, more straightforward pop-rock track about noisy (bomb-making) neighbors; and “Changing Times,” which starts out quiet and chiming but slowly roars in with distant vocals and churning bass. There’s also “Evil Twin,” which derails things a bit to throw a hint of raga and psychedelia into the mix, and “High Flier,” another spooky-as-hell track that stomps and crunches its way like a rampaging nightmare before cutting off abruptly.

The whole thing ends up sounding like the soundtrack to a bleak-yet-hopeful sci-fi flick, probably one with vampires in it or something, even (assuming, of course, that the vampires have better musical taste than they seem to in most horror movies). Is violence golden? Not a clue, but this disc certainly is.