Kerrang! December 2, 2000 KKKK 4/5
London-based sonic insurrectionists viciously hoof rock's twitching corpse.
Falling somewhere between Atari Teenage Riot, The Nation of Ulysses, Sex Pistols and Shangri-Las, The Action Time offer an utterly irresistible manifest to anyone who's ever been even partially-infected by the virulent, mind-warping disease that's popularly known as rock 'n' roll.
While co-vocalists Rock Action, SK Sparkles and Miss Spent Youth spew famliar, belive-in -the-ruins revolutionary rhetoric, what truly sets them apart from the herd is their uncommon ability to back up their cut-and-paste sylised insurrection with some really rather fine pop music. Rather than depend on designer punk bluster they deviously candy-coat their incendiary message in a mellifluous melange of Motown manners and call-and-response gospel soul that's all tied up with a razor-laced ribbon and a bouquet of six-stringed barbed-wire. (Ian Fortnam)
Malcolm X! Chairman Mao! Tamla Spirit! Random associations
of cool slogans that usually denote black bobs, polo necks and rabid,
righteous R&B. But, in this case, denote black bobs, charity-shop
mini-dresses and rabid, righteous 'C86' thrashes. Which is miles better.
Trust me.
With three chords and a patina of revolutionary chic, CC Rider, Jack Duvall,
Eddie Brackett, Miss Spent Youth, Susie Sparkles and Black September are
here to take on a music scene that's "awash with shite wibbling spacerock
arse and tosswank fifth-rate Britpop bollocks." And these kids fight
dirty. Or as dirty as you can fight while sounding a bit Shop Assistants
and a bit northern soul. Albeit northern soul had it actually originated
in, say, '60s Newcastle.
It's been done before of course, but rarely with such breathless energy.
And rarely with such an undercurrent of surly discontent. They're probably
all the wrong side of 21 and in sensible jobs of course, but the likes
of 'Soul On Ice' and 'Fear No Evil' ("The Action Time versus fucking
idiots!") do sound like a big fat, youthful 'fuck you'!
And they have just enough musical dexterity to make sure their songs career
along like spluttering, swearing cantankerous drunks, without actually
falling over. And pissing their pants. Twenty-nine minutes and six seconds
of singalong adrenalin, and the perfect getting-ready-to-go-out record.
Is there a better accolade? (Tony Naylor).
Select January 2001 3/5
Debut album from London's insurrectionary garage-pop sextet. They claim to have met at a northern soul all-nighter. From miniaturised scooters to Kate Thornton and The Weakest Link, we truly live in a world of thought-defying wrong. So you can hardly blame The Action Time for opting to forsake the 21st century entirely. Instead they immerse themselves in a 50s-flavoured Brighton Rock-esque fantasy of cheap, nasty suits, cheap nasty speed and even cheaper, nastier music.
Following the rockabilly trajectory of Gallon Drunk, musical competence is sacrificed in favour of a no-holds barred evangelical tirade. The vocals are spat out by the frankly unwell sounding Rock Action and the Scooch-gone-bad trio of Miss CC Rider, Miss Spent Youth and SK Sparkles. 'Stranded is the amphetamine-laced sound of slashed multiplex cinema seats, while the buzzing, guitar-drenched pairing of 'Blues part 2' and the 'The Third World' (sic) hints at what the Mary Chain might've sounded like if they'd never mastered diminished sevenths after Psychocandy.
With the record lasting under 30 minutes, the only problem is the occasional misjudged stab at proficiency - the aptly named 'Killing Time' screams 'token slowie'. But as a heroic, ostrich-like attempt to ignore present miseries, The Action Time?' is the Heartbeat you can riot to. (John Mullen)