At its early-’90s commercial peak, industrial music was synonymous with many things — harsh, militant sounding electronics befitting a band comprised of the killer robots; turgid, unrelenting rhythms evocative of the steady rumble of a carpet bombing; self-flagellating lyrics suggestive of a razor blade poised above one’s wrist.
But sex appeal?
Not so much.
Chicago’s My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult, though, leavened with a winking, tongue-in-cheek carnality and a loose-hipped electro swing.
Their biggest-selling album, 1991’s “Sexplosion!” was something you could play in the bedroom — as long as said bedroom was equipped with padded walls.
In the years since, there has been plenty of talk about machines eventually developing consciousness.
Whenever that day comes — if it does — their sex drive will have already been established.
Contact reporter Jason Bracelin at firstname.lastname@example.org or 702-383-0476. Follow on Twitter @JasonBracelin.