Seven Seals James Pants Artist

Chances are that you don't remember (or purposely forgot) the '80s Hollywood adaptation of {|Dragnet,|} but if you do, and you recall a scene where a pagan cult wore goathead masks and danced around torches while preparing a virgin sacrifice, then yo... Read more

Chances are that you don't remember (or purposely forgot) the '80s Hollywood adaptation of {|Dragnet,|} but if you do, and you recall a scene where a pagan cult wore goathead masks and danced around torches while preparing a virgin sacrifice, then you have the basic idea of what to expect with {|James Pants'|} sophomore album. {|The Seven Seals|} was made by {|Pants|} over a two-week period while he was holed up in a cabin studying the Book of Revelations and reading up on the occult. Packed full of pseudo-satanic imagery with a ritualistic, '80s vibe, the concept is thick: if {|James Pants|} were the leader of a cult, {|The Seven Seals|} would be the CD he would play to brainwash his followers. The electro artist's track record as a jokester (eating sushi and shooting laser guns in a King Tut headdress for 2007's {|Cosmic Rapp|} video) could make it tough to take him seriously, and the lofty concept is gimmicky at the least, but {|The Seven Seals|} is executed with complete maturity. Expectedly, everything's a little darker, a little more psychedelic, and a little more consistent than it was on {|Pants'|} debut {|Welcome|}. The material remains beat-heavy enough to fit the {|Stones Throw|} catalog, but lacks the {|Egyptian Lover|} robo-voices or 808 claps this time around. Instead, {|Pants|} sings in an {|Ian Curtis|} baritone that's cloaked in reverb or a distant falsetto, cooing over instrumentation that rides the line between creepy and creamy. It's obvious that a lot of work went into the making of the record, and as impressively detailed as the artwork is, the music is even more so. {|John Carpenter|} synths and sultry sax round {|A Chip in the Hand|} into a seductive groove that calls for repeated listens, meanwhile, in {|The Eyes of the Lord|}, stinging guitar drives a thumping bassline behind the beckoning chants of Come to us! Come to Us! It's scary to consider how many people could be lured into {|Pants|}' Jonestown, if it actually existed. Let's hope the address for the {|James Pants|} Fan Club printed on the insert is for just that and nothing more. ~ Jason Lymangrover Less