Supremely catchy power pop
author: The Trifectagram
Her most rocking album by far, one of those rare cd’s that’s as much fun to listen to as it obviously was for the band to make. Aimee Mann’s I’m with Stupid is the obvious comparison: layers and layers of tasty guitar, bristling and clanging and rising and swelling, catchy melodies jumping out of every corner, a sardonic lyrical sensibility and compelling vocals, in fact way better than anything Aimee Mann was doing back in the early 90s. The precision of the production and the richness of the arrangements are even more remarkable considering that the cd was recorded in a rush in little more than two days’ time. But Leslie Nuss is the kind of songwriter that musicians dream of working with. Her first two cd’s, Heliotrope and Action Hero Superstar established her as a formidable presence in the music underground, showcasing what her bandmates call an innate sense of melody, purist intelligence and a spontaneous feel for arrangements. Heliotrope was mostly jangle and clang, with the occasional country flirtation. Action Hero Superstar was pure sensuality, all lush ambience and longing. This album finds her at her most accessible and least oblique, drums four on the floor, choruses rising effortlessly out of the verses, inspiring a talented cast of studio pros to take it to the next level. This kind of music is great fun to play, and it sounds like the band is having a hard time reining in their exuberance. In a world free of Clear Channel (i.e. a dream world), every song but the brief sketch that closes this album would be a radio hit.
The rhythm section of Lola Ray drummer Alex Smolinski and bass monster Pemberton Roach locks in and grooves, while lead guitarist Mike Shimshack throws around a lot of tasteful, interesting bits and pieces of chords rather than any extended, boring soloing. The band starts cooking right off the bat with the cd’s opening track, Blanket of Stars, crescendoing from the fragile, vulnerable, almost tearful vocal of the first verse to the scorching, redemptive, guitar-driven power of the chorus. The album’s second track, I Was Not Made for This World burns with bitterness and exasperation, her voice rising out of the third verse to a soul-piercing, wordless wail. The minor-key seduction anthem Drive is recast here as a percussive garage hit; the impeccably crafted He’s Not Gay (He Just Doesn’t Like You) finally gives listeners a taste of her considerable sense of humor, something that doesn’t come across on her previous albums. The fun extends to the cd booklet, a spot-on parody of a fashion magazine, right down to the layout and visuals.
This is a very accessible album. Although it’s a lot more melodic than Green Day and more musically adventurous than No Doubt, fans of corporate bands like those will enjoy this cd. But so will people who like the Beatles or Erica Smith or Mary Lee’s Corvette, or any intelligent, thoughtful songwriter with an ear for a pop gem.
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