Factory Floor
If you ask Nik Colk Void who was in the back of her head while she wrote \"Here Again,\" the earworm-iest song on Factory Floor\'s debut album, she\'ll say Michael Jackson. Which seems like a stretch, but listen to it again. The moonwalk melodies are there, lurking just under the surface. They\'re simply distorted and hammered into the ground by lots of other loopy elements, from the inhuman drum fills of Gabe Gurnsey to the criss-crossing keys of Dominic Butler. And then there\'s Void\'s own contributions: guitars that sound more like synths and vocals that somehow remind us of The Cocteau Twins. Only, you know, eminently danceable. All of Factory Floor\'s songs unfold like this—in a manner that strip-mines its influences (industrial, acid techno, the \'80s definition of electro) and then obscures them in squiggly, elasticized overtones that sound like nothing *but* Factory Floor. Years of buzz-building singles (including the album standouts \"Fall Back\" and \"Two Different Ways\") and rigorous closed-door rehearsals led to this, and it shows. The only thing left to do is listen. No wonder that the first song is called \"Turn It Up.\"
On their impressive debut album for DFA, London's Factory Floor exist along an axis of artists that embrace industrial, post-punk, disco, acid, avant-garde minimalism, electro, dub and-- most crucially-- the dancefloor, without being beholden to any one genre.
The London three piece's debut is a sharp, uncompromising and surprisingly dance-friendly record that's emphatically worth the eight year wait.
Factory Floor's long-anticipated full-length debut doesn't deviate much from its mission statement – the trio, who define their music as 'industrial,' make stripped, loop-based techno on analogue machines, revelling in repetition and replete with mysterious, minimal vocals. It's a perfect fit for DFA, stripping back the punk-funk / nu-disco framework of their classic sound into something leaner and colder
Album review: Clash lets the debut, DFA Records-released set from UK trio Factory Floor into its ears, and gets transported to the Haçienda, sweating it out with Liquid Liquid and the 99 Records coterie...
<p>Factory Floor's mesh of techno, house and disco is mesmeric initially, but eventually jars, writes <strong>Molloy Woodcraft</strong></p>
If nothing else, Factory Floor has lived up to its name and whatever associations that stem from it.