CityLife

Putting the Heart into Disco

EURO FANS: Argentinian disco fans Heartbreak

AH, I love the smell of Italo-disco in the morning. It smells like... poppers!

You couldn’t have escaped that 2008 has witnessed the glorious resurgence of disco, with the feted likes of Hercules And Love Affair triumphantly grabbing dancefloors by the (glitter) balls and unleashing neon napalm.

Yet while Andy Butler’s Greek mythology-loving pan-sexual troupe mine the decadence of Studio 54 for their inspiration; a groundswell of groups such as Glass Candy, Chromatics and Little Boots have turned their dilated pupils towards the European counterpart to the New York movement.

Frankly, if you haven’t had a sly shimmy to anything off Mike Simonetti’s Italians Do It Better imprint this year, then, well, it might be time to turn off the life support machine, Grandpa!

Head and shoulderpads above the competition are Heartbreak, a duo with big ambitions and even bigger hair.

Combining the camp-melodrama of early Eighties Italian disco and the dark, brooding intensity of thrash metal bands (a concoction they’ve memorably christened ‘metalo’), they’re a vision of the sonic future laid down in 1984.

Fearlessly outre, they don’t hide under the knowing-wink of irony, and instead play the gayest music completely straight.

“If we didn’t mean it, why would we be doing it?” questions British keyboard mastermind Ali Renault.

“I think at the moment there’s a need and a crave for something real again, rather than a lot of dilutable, disposable, ironic, cosmetic pop that’s around at the moment.

“People want something a little bit more abrasive and something they can properly sink their teeth into without being scared of it.”

Meanwhile, look up ‘flamboyant’ in the dictionary and the definition will be Argentinian frontman Sebastian Muravchik, doubtless written in a jazzy font.

Flattered

“I am very flattered by these remarks,” he says. “The problem I have is with a one-dimensional way of understanding my work. Sometimes, people dismiss us as some kind of joke band and miss the other different layers of what I’m trying to do.”

Live, his performances have become the stuff of semi-legend. “We knew that we couldn’t look like we were constantly checking our emails on a laptop or something,” agrees Ali.

“It was unspoken that this was always going to be a very energetic thing.”

Having collided at a musical conference in Argentina, Heartbreak began two years ago when the pair bonded over a passion for Black Sabbath, Dario Argento slasher films, and an evangelical faith in the pop purity of Italo Disco, an Eighties movement which saw producers such as Casco and Kano employing unorthodox production techniques to create forward-thinking disco with melancholic melodies and a brazen sense of drama.

Aside from influencing Stock, Aitken and Waterman’s output, the genre never penetrated the language barrier so hardly made much of an impact on the UK, and remained consigned to history’s dustbin – until now.

“There was very much a battleplan,” explains Ali. “One of the first things we wanted to do was bring something fresh from the past that maybe had been forgotten into the now and experiment with it and see if it would work.

“For me, my mum was into a lot of very commercial disco, like Abba and Chic, and I really liked it as a kid.

“After an exploration into very minimal hard, dark music like Detroit techo, and once I got out of that and Chicago house, I was beginning to dabble with disco and then, of course, Italo. And it seemed so refreshing.”

Baltimora

While tracks such as forthcoming single Don’t Lose My Time (which echoes Baltimora’s Tarzan Boy) – taken from the Dionysian duo’s uniformly brilliant debut album, Lies – shimmer like Bolivian sunshine, Sebastian insists that, similar to the original ethos of disco, there’s a political conscious beneath the bombast.

“I lived all my life in a Third World country that used to be part of the First World, so identity has always been an important issue to me, as much as any other Argentinian,” he elaborates.

“The lyrics are very much about political identity and identity in general in a time of schizophrenia.”

As the new torchbearers of a scene ignited by the ZYX label, Heartbreak are preparing themselves for a backlash.

After all, disco originally faced massive opposition from right-wing America – epitomised by thousands of knuckle-dragging rock fans chanting: “Disco sucks!” while burning records at Chicago’s Comiskey baseball stadium. They saw it as standing for racial equality, female empowerment and gay rights.

“Disco has been persecuted throughout history,” reasons Sebastian.

“That has never ended. And we’re here to become the persecuted. In the current political climate, we need disco more than ever.”

Aside from their acclaimed album, Heartbreak have also notched up an enviable reputation as Grade A remixers, reswizzing Neon Neon and The Presets.

They’ve also recorded a cover version of David Bowie’s Loving The Alien for German label K7’s Life Beyond Mars compilation, and are assisting on production duties on Little Boots’ hotly-awaited LP.

But the $64,000 question is: how would you explain the Heartbreak ‘experience’ to my mum?

“Hmm,” says Ali. “It’s like Wigan Pier disco, if it was relocated to hell, with the devil as the DJ.”

And how do you cure a broken heart?

“A good, stiff, decent Scotch whisky. And failing that, lots of ketamine.”

There you have it, folks. Straight from the tranquilised-horse’s mouth.

Heartbreak perform at the Deaf Institute on Wednesday (Nov 26), alongside Little Boots. Heartbreak’s album, Lies, is out on Lex now. Don’t Lose My Time follows on December 8.