Two full-length, track-by-track album reviews are the featured output this time here at DaveCromwellWrites. An overdue return to greatness comes by way of legendary creators and long-time friends of this site. It’s always satisfying when one can reignite feelings of excitement and admiration that an artist initially stoked in you. These moments are what you live for, and should never be taken lightly. Equally important is a brand new album from more recent contributors (to this site, anyway) who’s timeline of productivity mirrors the first entry. There’s a starting point for everything, and the focus here is on these latest works.
When the original “Pe'ahi” album was released by The Raveonettes in 2014, an in-depth review of it was conducted at this website. That actually served as the ninth full-length review of this bands work here spanning a time period from January 2009 through September 2014. The review writing done earlier (which goes back as far as 2003) is now lost to the wind and dead sea scrolls of now defunct hyperlinks. Post Pe'ahi (1), an epic 3,744 word review of their “2016 Atomized” album was published here in January 2017. Following that was an August 2018 one-on-one interview with the bands mastermind Sune Rose Wagner. After a long hiatus The Raveonettes recently released a much anticipated follow-up to Peahi, simply titled “Pe'ahi II.” DaveCromwellWrites now digs into every essential aspect of each track with recharged purpose.
True to the opening tracks song title, the album starts with horror movie sounding plinking toy piano notes on “Strange.” It’s a 1950’s style stroll progression before the primary forceful guitar chords commence to chug along with bass guitar in tandem. The familiar Everly Brothers-style blended Sune and Sharin vocals deliver opening lines “Whenever we try it's a waste of - my time – yeah. Whenever we fight do you feel it? You bring me to my knees and tears.” Melodic guitar figures follow, immediately underscoring what gorgeous songwriting this is. Wagner laments about losing someone to “a boy who looked like me,” pointing out how “strange” it is “to go from the other side to this.” It all leads up to an angelic chorus that states “when we try – can we feel it’s ok” – “and it feels just like love.” That euphoric moment is ultimately countered by sparser instrumentation and comedown sentiment “it’s a waste of you and I.” The tracks final minute is an ambient dreamscape of metronome clicks and hisses over a simple keyboard rendition of the melody.
Check it out:
Follow-up cut “Blackest” starts out just as mysteriously, this time approximating a jazz combo with busy free-form drumming and soft reverberated electric guitar. Pulsing bass notes soon begins and spoken word as if from a radio broadcast can be faintly heard. All of that is obliterated when forceful buzzing guitars burst into the mix, soon joined by a power-thump drum beat. One more layer adds on with a descending “detective story” guitar melody. All of that suddenly drops out leaving behind changeover “ooohs” and a stark rendition of the songs lyrics. “When I rise on my wave - the moon shows her face. A lonely dot at sea - a lonely girl coming straight at me.” The trademark Wagner long slithery guitar groove is never far away, and the one here is everything you could want. Cycling one more time through the lyrical passage, Sune’s guitar follows with a flurry of melodic lines against moody backing instrumentals and an eventual thump-n-bump drum beat outtro.
An official band lyric video accompanies this one:
A syncopated rhythm between driving guitar and stutter-stop drum pattern immediately kicks off third entry “Dissonant.” Harmonized Sharin and Sune vocals jump in, delivered quickly at one more alternating tempo. “Come and get beside her - just pretend you like her - this love is all yours to fake” is the opening, disillusioned sentiment. “I tend to harden up when our love is set to go - I wanna give it up for someone I don't know” completes the hit-and-run encounter. A musical callback to “Attack of the Ghost Riders” follows to much surprise (and delight). With that initial verse/bridge progression cycling though again, a quick stop deep bass buzz plateau is reached at the minute-and-a-half mark (and lasting over a minute) before it’s percolating build-up launches back into one more verse.
A classic, straightforward drum beat leads in the official lyric video enhanced track “Killer.” Melody kicks in by way of a tinkling bell sheen on its descending chord progression. Rough guitar chords slash underneath as dual sung vocals commence. While the verses are catchy in their own right, it’s the chorus that hooks you in immediately with the battle-scarred relationship lines “Kill for love, and make it so I don't care. Most of the time, I felt so alone.” After a second pass through it stops abruptly, with elegant piano notes and finger snaps in it’s place. Percussion returns, adding a steady current under the extended piano melody. Another subtle change halts that progression for brief arpeggio guitar notes, before returning to that relentless forward march. It’s an unusual (and unexpected) coda that measures half of the entire songs length.
A steady hard-edged guitar riff is the opening force driving next cut “Lucifer.” Motorik percussion joins in with measured pace, offsetting the guitars urgent nature. Softer higher range vocals spell out what appears to be a demonic fever dream. Bass guitar and more bottom heavy drums usher in the next passage adding a bit more grit and a touch of funk it it all. That is emphasized even further once the original hyper-drive guitar riff returns. Another more spacious audio section change includes lyrics indicating “Lucifer” is a woman who “never felt love” is “tired of all the fighting” and “wants to walk alone.” Cinematic in scope, the primary driving guitar hook once again moves out and open spaces emerge in its place. The tracks final minute is a blend of softer alternating guitar riffs, scratch-buzz percussion and ultimately deep buzzing synths.
Distant, chiming guitar ambiance is the deceptive fade in on forward charging rocker “Speed.” Sune’s vocals are pitched into a slightly higher register as he delivers loosely related strung together lyrics alternating between hope and defiant resignation. “My hope died down I can't explain” (negative)
“Somewhere I know that I belong” (positive), “Don't sell your soul you're young not old” (positive),
“Don't waste your time you're one of a kind” (more of a pep talk). True to the song title, it’s fast paced, tasty guitar lick driven, and while the percussion is hissy and somewhat buried, there’s lots of angelic background voices floating all throughout.
The percussion stops momentarily leaving only guitar fuzz to emphasize lyrics “Got hit by a car and emerged unharmed” (well that’s good) “A failure in life means a winner in hell” (what?). Other lines that stand out, like “I don't wanna die without having tried” (good advice) and “You're jealous of me for what I've done” (that seems rather personal and one wonders who that is aimed at). The final verse let’s it all hang out, with the lines “I belong to this generation of filth” (self realization), “I was pushed into life entertained by war” (we’ve talked about this directly interviews and related song reviews),
“we're pretty and blessed to have met with death (?!), “cause I know when he comes I'll take his hand” (yeah, I suppose, but don’t wanna think about that now – or ever – when it happens it happens – nothing you can do about it).
Reaching the albums penultimate track, “Sunday School” emerges in full motion from the get-go as a quick-breeze ditty. With emphasis on vocals and lyrical story telling rather than instrumental depth, it’s the perky, harmonized chorus that instantly connects. “What if you met him on a rainy day, he wouldn't get a word you say. This ain't no darling little Sunday school, cause he'd kill for love but not kill for you.” Bonus points for adding bell-chimes on the bridge section “and all the things that break you down, he never cared at all. Another time another place, he never cared at all.” That is follow by single throbbing tone, with distant voices as if coming from a far off radio. The final verse include lyrics too intriguing to ignore, with “fucked dates go to their graves” (!?), “young men end their lives” (negative), “young girls become wives” (positive).
Final cut “Ulrikke” brings back the harsh distorted guitars and thunderdome drumming for it’s abrupt shock-to-the-system intro. All that drops out quickly on opening verses that culminate with the line “make me indestructible as I am.” That intro noisy instrumentation returns, now sounding like an approximation of a train chugging down railway tracks. The second verse (same as the first) benefits from trip-hop style percussion and distinct, stylized recitation (and pronunciation) of the words. “Make me feel like finding someone - who can never do right and can never go wrong” becomes the catchy (if somewhat puzzling) refrain.
It's a wonderful album overall, and a reminder of the seemingly effortless ability Sune Rose Wagner has in writing, recording and bringing a record to fruition.
Connect with the band and find out how to acquire the album via this link.
Finally, at full track-by-track review of all 12 "Atomized" song can be found on this site here.
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Around two and a half years ago this site did an extensive review of Canadian indie rockers Star Collector’s 6th studio album “Attack, Sustain, Decay . . . Repeat.” That was the result of being impressed by their (and subsequently reviewed here) video single “Green Eyes” from fifth recording “Game Day.” Now the band is back with their just released seventh album "Everything Must Go!" Expecting nothing less than another power-pop masterpiece, DCW digs down into this latest output.
The album opens with overall title track “Everything Must Go!” along with a full video production. This title name is something you would see on retail stores looking to move all their merchandise in one last blowout. That doesn’t seem to be the case however with this band, as their meaning is more universal as in letting material things go (“cause you can’t hold on to it”). The track (and video) comes into view initially via mix-master drummer Adrian Buckley’s subtle backmasking followed by a propulsive beat. Slashing guitar chords jump in, delivered by Vic Wayne and Steve Monteith with
Tony Kerr’s bass locking to this progression that echoes The Who’s “The Real Me.”
Vic’s vocals are less Roger Daltry and more Alex Chilton in timbre, as he calls out for you to “come along for the show.” There’s an early “easter egg” for classic film buffs with the lyrical reference “Warriors, come out to play” (if you know the scene, you never forget it). Continuing it’s anti-materialism theme “we ain’t any richer than our memories,” “can’t put a price on feelin’ this way” and “you can’t buy tomorrow” leave no doubt as to what “must go.” In classic power-pop fashion, a blistering lead guitar break by Steve at the two minute mark is tasty indeed.
Check out this song and video here:
Second entry “Victory Dance” builds around wiry slide guitar and hand-clap-style percussion. A chugging mid-tempo groove, lyrics tell a tale of “we” (us) vs “they” (everyone who isn’t us) with an unconcerned “And we laughed” hook resolution. Big chiming guitar chords and fluid bass propel third track “Shining Example.” A higher-register backing vocal harmonizes with Vic on verses, while the change is solo voice intimate. The overall feel is closer to Neil Young and Crazy Horse than traditional power-pop.
Stacatto percussion, slithering bass and open note guitar figures lead in the subdued “Queen Bed.” Gentle female vocals (courtesy of Renee Suchy) join Vic on the understated “fight or flight” segment and following chorus. Those essential backing vocals become more prominent as the song progresses through this tale of returning to single life. Angular prog-rock accents provide instrumental change hooks for the torn memory saga “Black Nostalgia.” A particularly busy bass guitar line runs throughout, and especially stands out on the ethereal “Ah – Ahh” chorus. Vic drops his vocal timbre down low for the emphatic final verse where “the brutal truth” is addressed once and for all.
Referencing the Greek myth of Sisyphus, “Roll That Rock (Up That Hill)” bounces along briskly with contributions from guest musician Adam East (guitar, bass and vocals). Each lyrical burden is met with a definitive “And I don’t mind.” A soft plateau mid-song change section indicates that even if you “scream into the vacuum, everyone’s [still] a critic.” “Overblown” is an easy, breezy groove with lyrical focus on interpersonal turmoil. The question is asked “would you really be better off alone?” Frequent references to “the devil you know” describes multiple outcomes.
“Heavy On You” comes into focus via distorted buzz-fuzz and a-cappella vocals. When the mid-tempo cruncher rhythm comes in, a cautionary tale spells out how “a special kind of fresh hell - when you look at yourself - heavy on you and your mirrorball.” Bonus points for the thoroughly savory guitar lead running through the center. Bright acoustic guitar and melodic bass guitar melodies usher in the merseybeat tinged “The Best Thing.” Clever wordplay combining descriptive terms “bushwhacked,” “ransacked” and “gobsmacked” focuses on a spirited literary approach. Essential statement “the best decision you ever made was doing nothing at all” rings ultimately true.
Light touch drumming and prominent bass guitar provide instrumental backing for the vocally intimate “Static.” There is a simple yet inventive nod to the songwriters plight with the line “searching for a chorus in a never-ending verse.” Quick paced chunky guitar rock returns for the lyrically opaque “Section 8.” Ostensibly about the rental housing assistance program often referred to by that name, a penetrating guitar riff adds necessary melody between each line of the verses. Jungle thump drumming, slashing guitars and a hyperactive bass guitar pattern propels penultimate track “Shakedown The Breakdown.” As hoped for, a smoking lead guitar solo rips n’ rolls at multiple points throughout. Because when you come down to it, “We all need a gang in this cold town.”
The album closes on an adventurous direction for the band, breaking from their signature power pop style with “Your Version Of Me.” Written as a collaboration between Vic and long-time friend of this site Jody Porter (most recent review on his music here, with linkbacks to numerous others) the groove echoes Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here.” Building off an instrumental demo Jody presented, Vic’s lyrics build from original intentions with the lines “You were banking on a new religion - a grift you kept on the sly.” The songs title refers to how everyone we come in contact with has their own personal “version of you” and how that differentiates somewhat among all of them. No one can know everything about you, as such only have their own impression of you. “Now, I’m free… and not your version of me,” becomes the definitive statement. It’s a gentle and introspective way to end an album that overall is loaded with one fine song after another.
Dig in to the album here:
Find out how to acquire this groovy power pop album at their Bandcamp
The month of July is always a reason to celebrate. Two important (personal) birthdays share this 31 day stretch with peak middle-of-summer enjoyment. Along with trips to parks, beaches and the pool, time has been allotted to critically examine the most compelling new music. While all the reviews here are of recent releases, more than a few tracks have been developing over a number of years. Trusted labels continue to support artists whose independent output are far more interesting than anything the current trends offer. DaveCromwellWrites does its part as well in this regard, with the below investigation.
When friend-to-this-site Shore Dive Records shows up with a new album to promote, it’s always a reason to take notice. When it’s a beloved artist previously reviewed here, there’s pretty much certainty it will receive a careful listen. Such is the case with the Phil Wilson lead project The Raft. The Liverpool, UK based musician’s full-length album “Summerheads And Winter Beds” was given a detailed review here a few years back. Subsequently Phil’s guest vocals on Xeresa album “IV” and the song “Fall Into Unknown” was given a thorough analysis as well. Now Phil is back with a new full-length “Look At The Patterns,” which receives a DCW focused review below.
Opening track “Save Me” starts immediately with Phil’s vocals, a cappella but layered and touched with processing. A single guitar stroke ushers following vocal lines, then finger-picked open note guitar figures fill in going forward. Fuller instrumentation joins in for the gentle, minor-chord enhanced chorus that states “I don't wanna change the world, it's not what I cling to. When love is failing . . . and fear remaining – doesn’t matter what I do.” The second verse adds clack percussion for change and depth, while lines “Stayed here for lack of anything else to do - And what you are is what I knew” is an insightful observation. Halfway through a whimsical guitar solo weaves around repeated vocal line “what I do” (as in it “doesn’t matter”). Following that are unanticipated heavy distorted guitar chords emphasizing lyrical thoughts “We've been praying lately for something to shape me -
Skimming books and papers - Looking for a clue.” A Trumpet plays for a bit and then back to the power chords on what has now become a powerful chorus.
Follow-up cut “Far Away From Here” bursts out of the box with a joyously bouncy groove driven along by off-kilter “wobbly” guitar tones. It’s a peppy pop song for sure, with Phil enlisting a back-up vocalist that adds emphasis to key vocal line. The single-phrase song title line chorus hits hard with near-gazey guitar chords and throbbing counter-melodic bass. The vocals punctuate it all with a catchy “Ah-Ah-Ah” end cap. With declarations to “hang on to my health,” the goal is still to find “a new start” – where? Well, “far away from here.” 2:15 in and a gentle picked guitar solo presents itself against that wonderfully churning warble backdrop. Additional lyrics “If I could only be around instead of underground - I could see you shine. It's hard to be a better man - Living up to all you can” add insight into the desire to get “far away from here.”
Check out this amazing track here:
Third entry “Calling Out” makes full use of that three-quarter time 1-2-3 waltz progression as beautifully as any Sundays song. A pair of Claire’s contribute female vocals in a primary way, adding further credence to the Sundays comparison. The chorus flips to a male dominated vocal blend, with dreamgazey guitars washing over it all. A tasteful blend of plinking guitars, throbbing bass and deep textured drum sounds complete the audio spectrum. A final 30 second coda appears with an a cappella vocal of the lyric “you don’t even know me.”
A slightly funky bass and drums groove serve as the initial underpinnings for “Memory Of A Day #7.” Blended vocals come on tweaked and textured as one is encouraged to “feel the breeze, see it in the leaves” so that “for a while we are free.” Soft female vocals join in for the second verse (the two Claires) “What a scene - We're a dream - Moment to moment - And for a while we are real.” All of that leads to a lush, dreamgaze chorus that reveals the albums overall title. The second pass through reveals the song title with “into the soul the memory goes.” The track is a brilliant blend of almost folk-music (quiet guitar picking) single brass elements (trumpet) and heartfelt emotions. “Windows reflect back two souls. Look at the patterns. Memories or dreams?"
A precisely syncopated drum arrangement and chiming Robert Smith style guitar tones guide fifth track “Wanda.” One more trio of backing vocalists are engaged on a sensuous chorus that implores “you can always smile.” Bass guitar and it’s six string counterpart create just the right length bridge to immerse yourself in yet-another luscious chorus.
Celestial angelic folk is taken up a level on the Jon Anderson and Vangelis sounding “Next September.” While the lyrics may be more earthly than those two aforementioned spiritualists: “You were lips you were eyes . . . You were hips you were thighs . . . Spent the night every night - Held on tight,” that sonic impression remains. A song of desire – to rekindle something once had - “Maybe I'll see you in Manchester next September. I'll come and stay the night re-live our nights in paradise.” The male-female tandem sung vocals are nothing short of gorgeous.
Heavy bass guitar plod and similarly paired drum stomp supply framework under the 2/4 time parable “The Boy Lives On The Wind.” It’s a marching progression with that bass guitar reminiscent of Paul McCartney’s inspired playing on “The White Album.” Interesting chord changes deeper in allow for a sonic respite and prevent repetition fatigue over it’s five minute length.
Check this one out here:
Reverberated guitar chords chime from multiple directions on curiously titled “The New Brighton Witch.” A previously unheard female voice adds a response melody in counterpoint to Phil’s primary lead vocal. In fact, the apparent actual subject of the song’s title turns up to convey a spoken word incantation at the tracks end.
Quick chime guitar strumming and precise counterpoint bass notes introduce the dream-folk tinged “She Gave Me A Crystal.” A trio of background vocalists are carefully synthesized into key sections, the first being a rising step “I can never tell you what you are – the sun and the stars.” A minute and a half in on this over 5 minute track has fuller instrumentation filling everything out. In particular, a buoyant bass guitar creates figures between the more grounding drum beat. The harmonies are lush, ethereal and utterly exquisite.
The album’s final entry “In The Morning When You Rise” builds around finger picked acoustic guitar notes, strummed backing chords and subtle “ahh ahh” backing voices. Quick in pace and ¾ time (or is that 6/8?) soft opening lines ask “What can I do? What can I say to get out of the way? What can I do to be fully alive?” Exploding into a full-on dreamy-gaze rock production with stabbing guitar figures, a once-again soft plateau is reached. Tender male and female voices blend together asking “how can you shine?” before revealing the songs title line. One more lovely build up of cascading voices, full band and an emphatic chorus leading the track (and album) to it’s conclusion.
There seldom is too much passing between musical releases from Sheffield UK based indie-gaze band The Suncharms. Having reviewed their full-length album “Things Lost” here last October, the band is now back with a contributing track on Sunday Records recently released multi-artist collection “Beautiful Noise.” This isn’t the first time they’ve contributed to one of these collaborations, as their track “Liquid Through My Hands” on 2021’s “Something Beautiful” release was featured here at that time. Anticipating a glorious listening experience once again this time around, their track “Saddest Sound” is given the DCW analysis.
Beginning with ambient synth-like textures, open string guitar figures lay out the four chord progression. Secondary guitars enter in with subtle pitch bend counter melodies as drums, bass and jingle tambourine fill out the sonic spectrum. Lead vocalist Marcus Palmer soon emerges with his familiar sandpaper vocals offering a soothing delivery of the song’s title via subtle psychedelic layering. Rhythms pump back and forth underneath as extended guitar note melodies ride over top and ever-present tambourine-on-snare beat marking time. After minute and a half in, a second melody line emerges echoing the opening refrain via clean twangy guitar. The heartfelt vibe is easy-going, with a touch of bluesy greats like Knopfler and Clapton. The descending bass guitar pattern warmly ushers in another round of Palmer vocals. One more guitar line enters the mix two minutes in with a deeper tonal quality, ultimately blending in with those other guitar figures already in progress.
It was just a year ago when this site did an extensive review of SoCal pop rockers sparkle*jets u.k. and their indie hit covers collection "Best Of Friends." Trusting the recommendation of frequently reviewed Burbank, California label Big Stir Records, an over 800 word highlight analysis of that record was produced. The band is now back with “Box Of Letters,” their first album of original material in over 20 years. DaveCromwellWrites turns it’s audio-scope on these brand new tracks, searching once more for the continuing evolution of what is “pop rock” music.
It’s a bold move to open an album of new material with a cover, but that’s exactly what happens here with the purpose statement “This Will Be Our Year.” Tapping the ageless Zombies classic, it serves as a testament to the endurance of finally breaking through. Packed into a succinct 2:29, the core members of Michael Simmons, Susan West and Jamie Knight make their presence felt immediately. Michael’s lead vocal tone and register share the same reedy quality of those guys in Squeeze (either Difford or Tilbrook, I confess to blurring who is who), with a touch of McCartney as well. Ultimately it’s a celebration of something that “took a long time to come.”
As the band is know for alternating lead vocals, “Goodbye X3” becomes the first entry from Susan West. Written with fellow bandmate Jamie Knight, classic rock and roll keyboards drive the songs rhythm. Sung with a bratty, adolescent flair, the title line chorus brings to mind 80’s pop sensations Scandal and their hit “Goodbye To You.” It’s a breakup song of course, and a sending off of “yesterdays problems.”
An initially twee sentiment with playful piano chords and clacking-shell percussion introduces the ultimately scathing “Princess Needy.” Blending Burt Bacharach style songwriting with bigger faux-horns production, the lyrics hit the mark again and again. “How dare the rest of us make her sad? Don’t you people know the world revolves around her?” Two minutes in, there’s a sudden tempo shift into a funky progression where 70’s “soul” voices proclaim “She’s gonna tell everybody about it.” From that point on it morphs between the initial rhythm and what sounds like the orchestral band ELO, perhaps not so subtly referencing bits of their hit “Evil Woman.”
Susan returns as vocal protagonist on the lyrically cheeky “Love Burn.” Straightforward twangy guitars are joined by shorter melody enhancements for a fun reading. Comparing heartbreak to something that can be remedied by a “bucket full of salve” is an amusing take. Two minutes in and a mad distorted guitar solo (of sorts) commences, before ultimately giving way to the all-important cowbell. Wrapped around that is a rather melodic chorus featuring a somewhat perplexing repeated line “I’ve got a heart in my song for you tonight.”
The obvious Beach Boys musical reference (“Don’t Worry Baby”) on the intro to featured cut “I Can’t Wait For Summer” is a welcome touch. Michael Simmons immediately pivots to his own melody as his lyrical story unfolds. Taking some poetic license here (or perhaps this SoCal resident *did* experience “cold, snow, bare trees” at one point in his life) references to “sandals on” and “drive the coast” seem more appropriate. Lush harmonies fill the air on key moments “someday soon the sun will shine” and “when we take that magic ride.” There’s even a touch of Phil Spector on a brief “Be My Baby” sonic breakdown. As well as a harmonica solo that fits perfectly during the “A magic summer” outro.
It’s a deliberately measured pace “stroll” progression driving Michael’s existential view on “Little Circles.” Contemplating our importance in the world, and “hoping that someone will notice” is offset by the knowledge that “we’re nothing special outside of our own little circles.” Classic Beatles-y harmonies make it all sound lovely nevertheless.
Co-written by all three principal members, the Susan sung title track “Box of Letters” emphasizes quick rhythmic changes on story telling lines (“Way – back – I remember.”) Looking back in time on a lengthy relationship that produced a collection of physical correspondence seems quaint in this age of digital communications. Those “frozen moments” and “pictures too” are now the domain of Social Media. While Susan belts out each line with gusto, it’s still the little things – “a matchbook, flower, and a napkin of embarrassing poetry” that matter the most.
70’s era soft rock/r+b electric piano (with that very specific reverberation) creates the sonic territory for Michael’s “Where’s The Moment.” The feel is similar to Paul Carrack’s 1974 hit with his band Ace “How Long (has this been going on).” Wrestling with making plans and “trying to recapture something great” takes away from the joy of living in the “now.” That provides the impetus for pop hooks “Why can’t I stop and just be? Just tryin’ to shake anxiety,” and “but where’s the moment? I can’t find it, somebody tell me how.”
Susan’s voice is used for maximum pop potential on the bouncy, Michael penned “You Complete Me.” Built around brightly strummed guitars and electric keyboards, clever lyrical turns like “I’ve got 90 cents, you got a dime – you turn my change to dollar signs” is as playful as it sounds. There’s even a surprising Electric Sitar solo in the middle, giving it all a late 60’s feel. However the catchy chorus of “thing is youuuuuu complete me baby (with full handclaps) does that make us co-dependent or what?” is what sticks in your head.
Chunky, distorted rock n’ roll chords and slithering bass are featured on the lyrically clever office-worker anthem “I’m Away From My Desk.” Anyone who has ever had this sort of employment can totally relate to this running out the clock behavior. “Making copies, pourin’ coffees, killing time” leads to thoughts of “putting in for some Personal time.” Fellow label mate (and previously reviewed here) Nick Frater is credited with “Abbey Road Handclaps.” and their layered impact is felt. Additionally an 8 year old Julian Knight chips in on the soaring, harmony-laded background vocals as well.
An instantly pleasing guitar-drums trade off opens the vocal ladder climb “One Two Tango.” The Cheap Trick influence is strong here on the “one two three four five six seven ten” followed by “I’m counting on” background vocals refrain. Robin Zander would surely approve. In fact Rick Nielsen and Bun E. Carlos might nod approval as well on the tight rhythmic back-and-forth between guitar, bass and drums.
The album’s closing track is a cover of “Hey Grandma,” Moby Grape’s opening cut from their 1967 debut album. Showcasing the bands live sound, the track was recorded that way to show off their stage chops and dispel any illusions they can only play in a controlled studio environment. It’s a boisterous rendition, and a fitting send off for an album that has so much packed into it.
Dave Cromwell has been writing about music since the dawn of the internet age. In addition to the steady flow of features here on this site, he has been a regular contributor to The Deli Magazine (both Print and Web) since 2010. With numerous Print Issue cover features and weekly contributions on the Deli website, scores of artists have received the Cromwell point of view. Along with ongoing contributions to this site and The Deli Magazine, Dave has written for Dingus, My Social List, The Waster, Spin and Rolling Stone magazines.
