The above image was Pitchfork’s review of the Black Kids’ debut, Partie Traumatic.
That about sums it up.
The second side of Partie Traumatic is entirely comprised of songs with “I” or “me” in the title. It’s a narcissistic suite, which is appropriate, because the Black Kids think they’re the shit.
That’s just one reason why this album is so supremely irritating. The Black Kids are obviously talented, but their Robert Smith and Jarvis Cocker meet Disco Stu schtick gets old in a hurry. “Listen to your body tonight / it’s going to treat you right.” Good Lord. Hipster hell.
On the occasions when the Black Kids get serious (“I’ve Underestimated My Charm (Again)”) the results aren’t bad, but those songs sound out of place and are overwhelmed by more propulsive numbers with crappier lyrics.
So that’s what you get with Partie Traumatic–respectable Pulp impersonations surrounded by overly self-conscious tunes that are too cute by at least half. Their eyelids must be sore from all that winking.
As I said, the Black Kids are talented. There are folks out there who will really enjoy this album; I’m just not one of them. I suppose there’s the possibility that they could develop into a good band, but I suspect their case of hip may be terminal.
Black Kids – “I’m Not Going to Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You”
Black Kids – “Hurricane Jane”