Hey look everybody, it’s another unexpected genre exercise from The Dirtbombs, following up their supreme Detroit techno effort ‘Party Store’ with this affectionate tribute to the oft-pastiched micro-genre of Archies/1910 Fruitgum Company style American Bubblegum. As I probably said when reviewing ‘Party Store’, I think these kind of projects often bring out the best in Mick Collins, whose bands, though all mighty rock n’ roll units, sometimes tend to flounder on record when operating in “hey, do whatever you like” territory. And I’m happy to report that ‘Ooey Gooey..’ continues to bear that theory out.

The main thing that sets this one apart from ‘Party Store’ and ‘Ultraglide in Black’ is that it relies on original song-writing rather than covers, but thankfully Collins & co. fare extremely well in this regard, conjuring up a pile of effortlessly catchy, triumphantly shallow ditties whose cross-pollination of the bubblegum formula with the DB’s patented fuzz garage stomp produces results that for my money are generally more enjoyable than the oft rather tepid confections offered up by the original bubblegum era.

Certainly, one feels that the purveyors of ‘60s/‘70s bubblegum’s cloyingly pre-pubescent ideal would have gone red of face and weak of knee if faced with the percussion-heavy fuzz-box funk and libidinous innuendo of ‘Sugar On Top’ and ‘Hot Sour Salty Sweet’. Listeners who like their pop-fun to come with a bit of a grown up kick to it should have great time with ‘em though, and the former in particular matches the best bits of ‘Party Store’ in its “perfect world floor-filler” potential. Elsewhere, the Shoes/Badfinger-esque ‘Crazy For You’ gently out-Power-Pops 90% of current contenders in the power-pop sub-division of contemporary garage/punk (love that middle section), and that sentiment that applies double to the dumb-faced happiness bomb of ‘Sunshine Girl’, whilst ‘Girl On The Carousel’ takes a surprisingly successful turn toward lush, Association-ish bubblegum-baroque.

As with most bubblegum type stuff, the inevitable onset of sugar toothache means it would probably be a sign of mental illness if you actually wanted to listen to this LP every day, but when the sun’s shining and you’re feeling UP, UP, UP, it’s the bedroom dancing album of the year for sure, and another jewel in The Dirtbombs’ increasingly shiny back catalogue.

Listen on Youtube, buy from the shops.

Labels: best of 2013, The Dirtbombs