Come Into My Room, We Wanna Get Loaded and Have a Good Time
Weatherall weaved his magic on I’m Losing More Than I’ll ever have more than more than a quarter of a century ago (1990). But it’s still a definitive track. Consciously or not, Danish trio Helmet Compass’ Come Into My Room sounds like a close cousin to that classic. They’ve managed to recreate that piano driven, bass heavy baggy acid sound in a way that sounds totally authentic and unabashed.
Starting with a similar one note piano line and acid sonics, the track offers dubby fuggy bass and wide-eyed adventure. The vocal wants to be Happy Mondays but is a bit more Soup Dragons. But the overall effect is far too euphoric to be bothered. The lyrics offer “You’re in over your head, now” but that’s never the case. They got stuck in to indie dance and made it work.
Blurb: Copenhagen-based trio Helmet Compass have previously attracted attention with their take on the current neo-psychedelic rock wave. Now, however, they have taken their sound in a novel direction by fusing the genre with clear references to the bass-heavy acid house of the 90s. They are now adding the last touches to a number of singles that are equally fit for beach-chair meditation and late-night raves.
‘Come Into My Room’ sounds like an electronic version of Happy Mondays bathed in countless dance associations. Balearic breakbeats, halogen house pianos, syncopated synth stabs, and two-ton bass is tumbling out of the speakers with an exalting energy unheard of since the golden age of the throb-throb-music in the early nineties. Served in a heavy mid-tempo groove, ‘Come Into My Room’ is constructed to conduct the pre-party of an endless night on the dancefloor.
The single is released on the underground label Seaworld Records which is a spin-off of the rave-club of the same name, where Helmet Compass has filled the club with necessary nighttime drop hammer beats right into solar plexus of the techno-thirsty copenhageners. The music video for Come Into My Room was shot at one of Seaworld’s events, directly from mission control inside the DJ booth, as a POV-gospel of the ecstatic and unrestrained dance orgy in which the band wants to engage their contemporaries.
Prepare for an introduction to auditory escapism of epileptic dimensions served on a sonical sandy beach of pure synthetic smiley-synergy.