from the NME 20th February 1988

Disco 2000 - Kings Cross The Bell

Disco 2000 - god help us - are two raucous, wicked, hideously
beautiful she-cats with diamonds for brains. Test their urine and
discover stinging insanity, last night's heavy make-up and an
alcohol level that would make Behan blush inside his shroud.
	This is classic meltdown acid-rap but be warned, fellow chicks, and
mark my glower well: for beholding Disco 2000 and accepting their
clandestine burn is like staring into a mirror too flood-lit for
comfort.
	Oh you'll love them of course, their spit and writhe and crazy
scarlet defiance. But you WILL want them to stop, lest your own
dreams start to bleed and your envious guts spill out onto the
linoleum. Was I ever as brave as that?...As bright, as deadly, as
much?!
	And if you really feel like torturing yourself - a MUST for the
super-paranoid, and budding masochistic bore - then execute a sly,
slit-eyed spot-check on the male reaction to their grimy, violent
blur. For men, Disco 2000 must be like sex without the draggy
chat-up scenario, Mae West without the lard, Madonna staked out in a
jacuzzi looking anything but helpless.
	These girls are spoiling for a scrap. they are also drunk to the
point of imprisonment, clutching hold of each other mid-dance
routine with ever-increasing hysteria. I watch them puzzled as they
stagger out of the bonfire after only two songs. Disco 2000 - MAD,
BAD and GLORIOUS. But next time hide the vodka.
                                                          Barbara Ellen