Steely Dan have been firmly back in fashion for years now, but no one has picked up Donald Fagen’s glass of kirschwasser and run with it as maniacally as Geordie Greep does on his debut solo single. If black midi did an honorable job of getting math-rock obsessives to listen to theater kid music, “Holy, Holy” goes mask off: Between one silky Broadway chord after another, Greep stages his disco revolution. “From the moment you put your hand on my knee/I knew I’d have you with ease,” he caterwauls in his Pere Ubu sneer, instantly announcing one of his most lecherous and pathetic characters yet. Jazzy chords and dance-punk guitars snap in and out of time, barely hitting their marks; it’s as if a cross-eyed lizard approached you at the bar with his fly down, convinced he’s absolutely killing it.
After a few freewheeling minutes of bragging about his salsa moves, the twist comes into focus: Greep’s latest conquest has an hourly rate, and rather than sweeping her off to Tokyo and Havana, he plans to stand around in the bathroom with her for 15 minutes, then have her brag to the other girls about what a stud he is. Compared to the splatter-paint canvases of his band’s albums, “Holy, Holy” is delightfully sharp, carefully approximating what a black midi pop song might actually sound like—turns out 4/4 really can be one of the most exciting time signatures.
