Donk. Say it, out loud. Donk. Donk. Donk. Donk. Donk donk donk. Then repeat it over and over, preferably in a room full of sweaty, E’d-up Thug-Lite 18 year olds. Congratulations! You have just recreated an experience only a fifth as banal as the actual music scene whose name you’ve just been chanting, to the concern of your nearest and dearest.
Donk, for those of you who don’t lecherously hang around teenagers like I do, is a type of Bounce House music, which is in itself a sub-genre of Scouse House. Actually, there’s no point in explaining any more – just check out the truly astonishing Put A Donk On It by Blackout Crew.
Having had my eyes belatedly opened to a whole new world of idiocy, I discussed it with sometime ANBAD contributor Jamie. It’s like lame Happy Hardcore, we agreed. It’s so bad it’s gone right past good to being bad again, we agreed. There’s virtually no good song Donk couldn’t destroy, we agreed.
This last idea raised an interesting point – could Donk, the Poor Man’s Gabber, be used to improve bad songs? Keane‘s newest album perhaps, or anything by U2? It’s hard to deny that hearing the words “Put a donk on it” looped over the chorus of Vertigo wouldn’t have been an overwhelming improvement.
I’d like to hear a Donk be put on Today’s New Band, not to make it better, but to see if Schande Boy could be made any weirder. Schande Boy is musically schizophrenic. Can’t Stand Punk is a weird, harmonium-led, quasi-choral chant about the singer’s disdain for, errr, punk. Rounds of ah-ah-ah vocal sounds, distressingly grand stabs of organ and confused lyrics mean it’s compellingly strange, but not for the sake of it.
In Deep Water, Schande Boy‘s best song, uses the same tricks and sounds to make a song that starts sharply, quickly, with dancey rhythms, urgent guitars and and then dissolves into fuzzy nothingness. PC Blame, with an almost Afrobeat tinkle beneath an incessant drone, is sweet, breezy and dense all together.