The riffs are tight, but not so fresh. When they don’t evoke vintage Von Bondies, they suggest the Killers or, in the case of a dramatic lead single, Pale Bride, the British band Bloc Party.
Stollsteimer seems painfully aware of his band’s restrictions, imbuing the album with a defensive streak. “Can you say a good word about us?” he pleads, or dares, in a song called Shut Your Mouth. Elsewhere he insists on forced apathy (“I don’t care anymore/Don’t care anymore”) or churlish indignation (“Who’s sorry?/You’re sorry”). These would feel more like private sentiments if they weren’t all delivered as anthems.
His most straightforward lyrics arrive in the opening track, This Is the Perfect Crime, apparently a new manifesto. “We are the spark/We are the grit,” Stollsteimer declares, adding, “We are the underground!” It’s a hopeful idea for a band that no longer has any claim to the mainstream. And it gets more hopeful still:
A lot of fads will come and go
It’s hit or miss on unpaved roads
And chances are that crowds will
grow
To seek the sounds below.
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