The Plot to Blow up the Eiffel Tower – Love in the Fascist Brothel

The Plot to Blow up the Eiffel Tower
Love in the Fascist Brothel

When looking at Love in the Fascist Brothel, the new CD by The Plot to Blow Up the Eiffel Tower, it’s apparent that this is “out there.” Sloppy artwork straight out of MS Paint depicts satirical renderings of saluting fascists, a bikini-clad angel, and the four-piece punk band itself. The tracklist found on the backside is about as messy as the actual 24 minutes of music, a sloppy breed of punk, hardcore, and jazz music. The band’s influences are primarily old-school punk visionaries, like the Sex Pistols, the Contortions, and GG Allin. This ear-ache of an effort makes you wish The Plot to Blow Up the Eiffel Tower hadn’t beaten a dead horse, or at least had some better sounding taste.

Melody is violently tossed out the window practically from the start of Love in the Fascist Brothel. The vintage piping horns that open “Reichstag Rock” are overthrown by a coup of loud, banging instruments and an obnoxious frontman. Honestly, every song on this short full-length blends together, all sounding the same. With so much hyperactivity and so little hooks, it would be hard to remember the parts unless you’ve got the will to play this a lot. Poorly done lo-fi vocal delivery that isn’t understandable is another key disappointment. Witty lines of lyrics can be found in every song, but the only way you’ll know them is through the liner notes. “Drake the Fake” features nifty lines like, “Wrapped up in the coil of a snake! Wrapped up in the arms of an ape!” but singer Brandon Welchez incoherently mumbles it all.

If there’s anything positive about this unstable collection of songs, it’s the upbeat nature. An energetic dance-punk vibe is most successful in “Vulture Kontrol,” “Angry, Young, and Rich,” and “Lawnmower Love,” but the momentum usually dissolves by the endings. The clamor of instruments, squeaky brass (see “Lipstick SS” if you dare), and offensive feedback too frequently takes them off the beaten path of an enjoyable song. Even a “piano solo” that’s snuck in manages to sound horrendous. It’s possible these guys purposely wanted the piano outro of “Angry, Young, and Rich” to sound that bad, but I’m not on the dissonance bandwagon. It’s fortunate they don’t spend much time attempting to fuse jazz into the tunes, because the result is embarassing.

This album is a severe case of not being my thing, and the majority of the punk and hardcore world may agree. With a band that takes pride in being a Warped Tour reject, you can expect to have your comfort zone violated. If avant-core bands The Blood Brothers and The Locust fill your fancy for the unconventional, this just may be something you can love. If not, you may be leaning towards bitter hate, because there’s little room for middle ground on this polarizing album.