Rob Harvey of The Music and Mike Skinner of The Streets are now The D.O.T. Since no one has cared about their musical projects for half a decade it’s wise that in their combined sound they have made a record that already feels (horrifically) dated.
Skinner, arguably, had more talent than Harvey. And if not – as I suspect is actually the case – then he was at least better at holding the mirrors in the right place long enough to get the full effect of the smoke machine.
This confused mess of part electro-pop and turgid disco streams with occasional rock songs and the thin ghost of an indie rock song shrieking through the floorboards in the hope of (sometimes) being heard will survive because of the cult of Skinner.
He seems to exist still in the hope that he’ll be seen as more than a One Trick Pony when that is all he could ever be. He is a blatant trend-hopper (and hoper) and here he’s something of a charity worker also, since Rob Harvey should, really, be hitting up a dole queue.
The claim that they’ve attempted to make an album that is “Elton John meets Hudson Mohawke” should tell you all you need to know. If we ignore Skinner (and, yes, I know I’m not exactly doing that by writing this) maybe he’ll go away.