Daniel Ash

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Hopefully, Daniel Ash has a million dollars in the bank and more guitars than that guy from the Tiger Lilies and lives in a foreboding castle somewhere high atop Houdini Mountain with a landing pad for UFO’s on the roof. Hopefully, he spends his days dreamily wandering around the estate sipping absinthe and acoustically serenading a devoted harem of glimmery goth chicks all tarted up to look like those alien broads Shatner used to make out with back in his day. Longtime followers of Monsieur Ash know exactly what his cover of “Spooky” sounds like before ever hearing it.

Obviously, Love & Rockets' 7th Dream Of Teenage Heaven was the perfect hybrid of Beatles psychedelia and Bowie sci-fi futurama bands like the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and Dandy Warhols. Meanwhile, much like his peers David Bowie and Prince, Daniel’s seemingly lost the plot and keeps making these embarrassing hot trips to techno hell, forever wanting to experiment with the latest fad-gadget doodad. Some inevitable forays into dumb dance music are redeemed by his inimitable Bauhausian, neon-blue-hued, liquid-amphetamine guitar lines and processed vocals phoned in from the dark side of the cartoon moon. This is what his patchouli-drenched, clove-smoking fan base purchases.

Cool stuff, if not overtly familiar, best served when it’s mostly guitar-based, weird pop. Because that’s where he excels, no matter how much he may be drawn to the youth-oriented, mostly insipid, DJ/nightclub culture. Undead, undead, indeed.

E-mail Dimitri Monroe at letters@metrotimes.com.

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