Well, it was between this and Lady Gaga, but I figured Ms. Germanotta probably isn’t suffering for lack of exposure. I’m just a little reluctant to direct you straight to “Olympians,” Fuck Buttons’ climactic geyser of pornographic ecstasy. As with all orgasms (here the avant-garde electronic kind,) it’s better if you don’t rush it. So, if you’ve got forty minutes, I suggest you start with track one and let Tarot Sport do its thing. For an epic quickie (relative to sex, not music – this track is a good ten minutes), here’s “Olympians.”

Please believe me, I would refrain from masturbation analogy if it weren’t truly appropriate. Here it goes: Tarot Sport is two hipster British dudes twisting knobs (fucking buttons, perhaps?) on a soundboard to erect an enormous sonic phallus. In “Olympians” they wank it till sublime.

It’s easy to dismiss the talent that goes into electronic music. I think it’s because, as we say in Berkeley, you don’t see the “causal link” between what the artists are doing and the sounds you’re hearing. With a guitar, the chord comes from finger configuration plus strum. With electronica, the noise comes from two hipster dudes leaning over a soundboard doing who knows what.

Indeed, the adding and subtracting of ready-made layers is all it is. Fuck Buttons expertly harness the emotional power of this simple addition and subtraction of sounds. “Olympians” feels (feels, not sounds) ecstatic, triumphant, life affirming. The unlikely hero you’ve been rooting for all along is running his victory lap. At the 9:29 mark, well, have tissues handy.

Listen to the whole album here!

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