by Wendy Case
Nothing clears a room faster than a little electronic Euro beat or retro lounge. As genres, they’ve become so precious and self-indulgent that, if they don’t bore your ass off, they’ll have you shoving finger sandwiches in your ears just to escape the musical ennui.
That’s why you should get down on your knees and kiss the lovely, well-manicured feet of Sabina Sciubba and her New York City mates Brazilian Girls. Neither Brazilian, nor girls (well, three out of four of them aren’t), the band’s self-titled debut represents a new dawn in the melding of technology, soul, dark beauty and righteous, unapologetic sex appeal. No slaves to fashion, the Girls stride through these 12 tracks dishing out everything from Latin groove to Stan Getz-style orgasmajazz to ultra-modern, avant-garde dance — all with splendid, and at times haunting, conviction.
And then there’s Sabina.
Like Sade, Sabina Sciubba could read the phone book and still make you want to lick the chrome off her bumpers. It doesn’t hurt that she’s a flamin’ hot babe, sings in five different languages and pens lyrics like “Pussy, pussy, pussy, marijuana.” What’s not to love? Put this together with keyboardist Didi Gutman’s seemingly insatiable appetite for variety and you’ve got the boldest sound since Air impaled themselves on Sofia Coppola’s The Virgin Suicides.
Friday, Feb. 18, at the Shelter (431 E. Congress, Detroit; 313-961-MELT).
Wendy Case writes about music for Metro Times. Send comments to email@example.com.