Arling and Cameron: We Are A&C;: Pitchfork Review

Arling and Cameron
We Are A&C;
[Emperor Norton; 2001]
Rating: 2.8

The only thing that could prevent you from exposure to music from Arling and Cameron's third album, We Are A&C;, would be packing your bags and moving to the moon. Trust me. Even if you never step into a record shop, you will fall victim to the duo's precisely organized obnoxiousness. No boutique, no mall, no gas station pump, no sports arena, no roadhouse will be unmolested by the dismal facile jollity that Arling and Cameron concoct. Allow me to illustrate this with an indisputable fact, which has been verified by several U.N. agencies as well as ASCAP.

The first broadcast on post-Taliban Afghan radio was a Pashtun-language ad for Old Navy performance fleeces, backed by an Arling and Cameron song. D'oh! After six years of no music, no television and no relief from militia-enforced beard itch, most Afghanis naturally welcomed such a spritely, happy ditty. But the people of the free world have a solemn duty to tell our recently liberated brothers and citizens that music can be more than just a mind-erasing jingle.

Is it going too far to state that Arling and Cameron are terrorists, hell-bent on the banalization of music? Probably. But just in case the Dutch duo plan to wreak hideous destruction, I'm duty-bound to advise you all in the severest terms that if you suspect you or those you care for are being exposed to Arling and Cameron:

Cover your ears.

Leave the establishment that is host to these pernicious melodies.

Inform your local F.B.I. office without delay.

Now that I've outlined the procedures, I should probably run down what you're likely to encounter. I will illustrate what you're to be alert for with reference to tracks from their latest and most heinous collection, We Are A&C;.

Arling and Cameron take Kraftwerk's Autobahn into lushly harmonized surf-pop on "5th Dimension." Amid all the blips, beeps, and swirls, the pair blithely chant, "The man machine is on a roll/ Getting closer to our goal/ Total freedom of the soul." "B.B. Electro" blasts its horns, ready for a fun-car commercial. When another GM-affiliated manufacturer releases its latest VW Beetle lookalike, there is a 99.5% certainty that "B.B. Electro" will be used as its signature tune.

On "Up," a nameless diva shouts for you to "get it up" over Duane Eddy-style twang guitar. "Up" has been mechanized for maximum brain-suck during afternoon rummages through the sale racks at Urban Outfitters. The robotically generated, faux-trip-hop "Walk on the Wild Side" rip-off, "We Are A&C;" blatantly declares that Arling and Cameron are clones. With lines such as, "Two fruits from a musical tree/ We are A&C;," these guys leave me in little doubt that they're determined to become the Siegfried and Roy of kitsch dance-pop.

The cod-reggae electro fusion "Coconut Conga" is infectious, like smallpox, while the bouncy Pizzicato Five-goes-lightly-jungle "Can You Pah-Pah?" will arouse the passion of a thousand post-irony hipsters who will moan into their Campari and sodas that this dreck hasn't yet been issued on 8-track. "Born in June" is a tender, hanky-waving diva ballad that even Diane Warren wouldn't have had a hand in. Yup, it's that shit. The professional, Bacharach-y "Sunday" could be the basis for a standout High Llamas song if Arling and Cameron had bothered to add any lyrics beyond "ba-ba-ba-barabaa" and some really arse whistling. Closing with 60 seconds of campy, polka-dotted Le Tigre-isms on "Don't You Fuck," Arling and Cameron attempt to prove that, though they're terribly good at horsing around, they're not to be messed with.

At their least offensive, Arling and Cameron are sickeningly self-congratulatory. If, like V/VM or Stock, Hausen and Walkman, the pair's smash-and-grab schtick had any bollocks, I'd be enthusiastic. I'd be mildly turned on if they had Pizzicato Five's panache or Bertrand Burgalat's harmonic invention. But We Are A&C; is feckless junk. Handsomely and repeatedly rewarded for being the burglars of pop culture, Arling and Cameron are touting flimsily fashioned sweat-shop counterfeits of far more stylish songs. In other words, We Are A&C; is perfect for in-store play at Old Navy. Consider yourselves forewarned.

-Paul Cooper, November 19th, 2001