Imagine the lost signal from a transistor radio tuned to BBC 1’s new music show in 1973 getting lost in a wormhole and suddenly finding its way back to modern ears; it would probably sound something like “Where The Wild Things Are.” Duane Hoover has never made any bones about his love of all things rock and roll, well, a certain type of rock and roll at least, that musical strand which is all about riff and groove and attitude and…well, everything that made the form so iconic, so popular in the first place.
Here, he wraps all of those things around a Bolan-esque boogie-bop, throws in some fun, tongue-in-cheek lyrics, and reintroduces a glitter-glam sound to the modern age, an age which, let’s face it, has lost its sonic sparkle.
“Where The Wild Things Are” rocks like a bastard…sorry for the language, but it does…grooves effortlessly, and is so infectious that you will be humming it, tapping your foot, moving to it, and perhaps even throwing some crazy shapes and bouncing all over the place before you know it. (Best not listen to it at work then.)
An echo of the past brought bang up to date, it’s what Duane Hoover does. And he does it brilliantly.
