Closet Disco Queen & The Flying Raclettes ~ Omelette du Fromage

Sometimes we meet albums that we don’t want to like (even though we do) because they are just too cheesy.  So what would happen if we found an album named after a cheese dish, inspired by an episode of Dexter’s Laboratory, available in seven different vinyl colors, including one that looks like cheese, on a Swiss label, making the album-with-a-hole-in-the-center look like, well, you know?  Well, I suppose we would have to review it.

It doesn’t hurt that Omelette du Fromage really, really rocks, although sometimes we have to wait for the rocking like one waits for the cheese at a too-polite party or upscale restaurant.  Fortunately, a huge slice is cut right at the start, as “Melolo-Aromatomat” (the title cheese-addled!) leaps into the fray like a cracker in the mouth of a starving guest at a reception after a wedding has gone too long.  Halfway through the pace slows, but there’s enough to tide us over so we can feign politeness, waiting for the next tray to arrive.  With half a minute to go, the track explodes again, like an embattled caterer.

“Glutentag” (love the title) is a pogo-dance blend, something we’d dance to at said reception, and we wouldn’t even need to be inebriated.  Though of course we would be more likely to hear “Come On Eileen” or “Don’t Stop Believin'” or some other song that we liked once upon a time, but are sick of hearing by now.  Talk about cheesy.  The track does get a little repetitive, so we’re happy when the band turns to punkish preview track “Flugensaft” (“Fly Juice,” if Google translate is correct, which we doubt).  Now we’re doing air guitar, and the bride’s father is not happy with us.  We’re given a choice of beef, chicken, fish or “vegetarian platter.”  But what if we want omelettes?

The band’s need for speed is on display in “Spartacuisse,” the third of four straight three-minute songs that could serve as singles.  But “Flugantaj Raketoj” (“Flying Rockets”) is the album highlight, a “Ballroom Blitz” of the instrumental world.  And this is where we start to wonder if the band ~ formerly a duo, now a quartet ~ is really cheesy, or just likes cheese.  Then we hit the epic 12:32 “Gigadodane” and all bets are off.  The timbre thins.  The dance floor clears.  Anyone who wants a solo gets one.  Mice jump on the deserted reception room table and eat all the cheese.  But wait six minutes ~ a rocking finale restores the energy.  We don’t want to like this album, but we can’t help it ~ and we can’t believe the digital price, a single Swiss dollar and well worth it.  (Richard Allen)

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