If a mix of Friendly Fires, LCD Soundsystem and Talking Heads all washed down with a high energy glass of relentless power disco and funk sounds like your sort of thing then get your dancing pants on because we’re going out. Park Hotel’s first material since last year’s Gone As A Friend and Going West doesn’t just groove, it gallops, trading girl-boy vocals, a synth riff that sounds a little bit like it’s about to launch into Mylo’s Drop The Pressure and a load of high paced percussion that sounds like whoever was playing it was having a blast. It’s a chic celebration of the thing that we might loosely term indie-dance. So, who’s coming with us? It’s time to get sweaty on the club floor. Park Hotel - Good People, Bad Dreams
In the world of the Google optimised band name, Park Hotel aren’t playing by the rules. From Tsilivi in Greece, to Barnstaple in the UK, there are plenty of Park Hotels but none of those are, as far as I am aware, making music and describing it as Doom Disco. I’m not sure about the doom element, but there’s certainly plenty of enjoyably slick boogie grooves in the material that this two piece, consisting of Rebeca Marcos Rosa (who grew up in Spain and has also works as a model) and Tim Abbey (a painter and photographer as well as a musician), are putting out. They're just bloody hard to track down through internet searching. The fantastic new single Going West gives an excellent introduction into what Park Hotel do, combining half-sung half-spoken vocals and that same sense of nostalgic funk that we probably last saw when Jungle headed out of the blocks. First and previous single Gone As A Friend, released earlier this year continues the coolest-dancefloor-in-the-world-ever vibes as it keeps the pressure on with some glossy old fashioned synth sounds, repetitive chanting and white trash disco guitar riffs – think Grace Jones, Friendly Fires and Nile Rodgers and you’ll be getting somewhere near the mark. Park Hotel make music that is as much about the groove as it is about the song. I can imagine them putting out a whopping extended mix of Going West that does nothing more than continue the riff for eight or nine minutes. It’s music to shimmy to under a giant glitterball wearing a cool suit. Count me in. Where’s that handbag? It’s time to dance round it.
