The idea of vaudeville is a heady concept, I believe. The term, derived from the French expression voix de ville, or ‘voice of the city’ holds a whole world of ability to its core. Obviously, it’s about expressing a message of some sort, but vaudevillians expressed their message in an overtly theatrical manner - through dance, song, vivacious costumes and make up. Through vision, motion and sound. And that’s a little bit akin to the movement of punk rock, don’t you think?

The first thing I assumed about The World/Inferno Friendship Society was that they were definitely a punk outfit. I wasn’t entirely wrong… You see, I discovered that there is so much more to them than just that one specified label.

I’m going to have to be honest with you, I’m not the kind of person who solely believes that the original ideals of punk rock still exist today. Elements, of course, are still present in the music. But in general, I don’t percieve it to be a thriving singular force, as such. It’s more an accompaniment. Such is why the immediate essence of punk rock didn’t hit me when I began to listen to the jazz-infused opening track (“I Am Sick of People Being Sick of My Shit”), but rather vaudeville. It was energetic, vivid, skin crawlingly, sax tootingly satisfying, cast under a gamma ray spotlight. The steady dropkick drums create this smirking and snarling atmosphere. It’s quite intimidating to behold at first but once you arrive at track three, you’ve begun to settle into the swing of things.

Said track, “Canonize Philip K. Dick, OK”, pretty much summarises what most of the tracks on this album are - blatantly catchy in-your-face piano stomp riots.

Something that takes away from the piano-oriented nature of most of the tracks is “The Politics of Passing Out” which infuses some bluegrass elements with more modern alternative feelings. It’s probably the catchiest track on the whole record, not unlike the chirpier works of one Amanda Palmer.  

The strongest track on the album by far is “Thirteen Years Without Peter King”, which begins slightly shakily but blooms into a fully pulsating dark tango tragedy of sorts. It definitely challenges the sensitivity of one’s heart strings - the emotion that pulsates from it is rather unexpected from a band I had thus far considered to be loud and boisterous in most respects, and once drawn into the center of it, it’s hard not to feel at least some stirring in one’s soul. However, it doesn’t totally abandon the sassy sneering that The World/Inferno Friendship Society characterizes. There’s still a slight hint of that audible about the sheer corners of the song, and that consistency is definitely beneficial.

Now, punk is not a genre I listen to regularly (if you disregard my slight obsession with Iggy Pop), but if this, work like The World/Inferno Friendship Society, is what the genre is producing nowadays, I may have to think twice about my neglect of that area of music.

What I liked most about The Anarchy and The Ecstasy as an album in whole is that it seemed to come alive. It was breathing and beating - it was a person standing before you, in full Steampunk regalia.

There was a definite character about every single snippet of music, one following the other, and each as cheeky and as maliciously grinning as the last.