Golden Axe - “Telephone”
Golden Axe was an arcade game from 1989. You would play as fantasy Medieval ubermensch characters—a body builder looking dude in a loin cloth with a sword (Conan the Generic, maybe?), a lumpy little dwarf with magical powers, or a buxom Amazon who apparently found string bikinis to be the most comfortable monster-slaying attire—on a quest to reclaim the the patriotic symbol of your fictitious country (the titular Axe) and rescue / restore the royal hegemony from the clutches of a meddling dictator. Inspiring, yes? I know all this not because I’ve ever played the game or can remember much of 1989 at all (I was four), but because I researched it on the internet using Wikipedia, which some people think is kind of unreliable. But what would I have put in this paragraph if I couldn’t look up some details on a piece of bygone entertainment dross?
Golden Axe the band are from New Zealand and they make hyperactive electropop inspired as much by the sparkly digital overload and media saturation described above as post-punk and new wave. A quick peek at their bandcamp or myspace pages shows a love of freaky visual noise and glam theatrics that land somewhere between Dan Deacon and MGMT. Thank goodness, though, that their tunes tend to sound more like Wham City on a heavy Factory Records binge (stream / buy their new record Fantasy Footwork from their bandcamp page, it’s fun stuff). “Telephone” has made the internet rounds recently, prompting Rose-Quartz-via-Altered-Zones to wonder just how we’re supposed to actually dance to this stuff.
Fortunately, my fellow earbud-sporting chair-sitters, dancing need not be the only activity associated with this song. Clocking in at just under three minutes, “Telephone” feels like a cut-down version of a much longer electro song (remixers of the world: take note), its marchy, hi-hat filled beat quickly making room for synth bass and grainy bleeps and bloops that act as punctuating phrases between chunks of 8-bit keyboard melody. By withholding vocals and allowing those measures to trade back and forth several times throughout the song’s first half, Golden Axe are able to develop their sense of momentum much quicker than krautrock-ish pacing might usually require. The relentless energy also means there can be a twinge of meditative zen here, when one’s ear is so inclined.
“Telephone, telephone / everybody’s on the telephone!” go the fuzzy, shouted lyrics, “What’s that you’re talking about? / Can’t hear when I’m in or out!” Maybe it’s the New Order / post-Ian Curtis elements—the “Blue Monday” bass line, the “Age of Consent” drums—but I hear an echo of Joy Division’s “Transmission” sentiment (“Dance, dance, dance to the radio!”) It’s an annoyance with technology, a gesture toward the way we use things like radios and phones to avoid engaging with other people directly. But rather than play up any dark and isolated sounds as a means of illustrating their peeve, Golden Axe skew sugared and spacey. They want you present and attentive, but that’s because they want you to have an awesome time.
