STODGE AND CHIP
Portion Control serve a plateful of Cabaret Voltaire, a side order of D.A.F. and a dollop of Chrome. It's heavy going, but amidst the stodge one can taste a couple of temting mouthfuls. "Hard, rhythmic electronics" is how the situation commandos of Portion Conrol John Whybrew, Ian Sharp and Dean Paviani describe their music. But, as with Psychic Television, music is only one prong of their "media assault". Not having seen them live, I can only guess that the "appropriate visuals" consist of a montage of ominously juxtaposed images of brutality, claustrophobia and alienation.

Such moods are all to easy to contrive with electronic instruments. What could be more innately inhuman and threatening than a machine, especially if it evokes the rhythms and textures of the harsh, even malignant, urban-industrial nightmare? Creating a passable soundtrack to Friz Lang's Metropolis is no great feat. Humanising the chip-as have done artists as various as Marvin Gaye, Eno and Depeche Mode- is the real challenge.

But whilst 'I Staggered Mentally' will hardly soothe the furrowed brow, only intermittently does it wrack the soul with anguish. The problem lies with the proliferation over the last few years of this genre of musical masochism. Portion Control have no angle which the Cabs, Chrome, Family Fodder and many others have not already covered.

It doesn't help that Portion Control advertise their intent so blantantly. With the primal scream sleeve, menacing song-titles and hardcore manifesto, they've painted themselves into a corner. Anything less than a 'Half Machine Lip Moves' was bound to feel overblown and cliched. But a few effective passages indicate that Portion Control may yet dish up thegoods, either by changing their preoccupations or else giving the existing strategy the welly it needs to make it work. Until then, take it away, waiter.

© NME 1983

Digital assistance and credit: Simon Dell <simon@stroppy.demon.co.uk>