Wednesday, January 29, 1997
The Violent Burning "The Violent Burning" (Domo Records) Rather
than prolong the Grunge Era, this Orange County foursome brings
back the pseudo-Goth dementia sound with their self-titled debut
album. And while it’s not the Siouxsie Sioux-type Goth we’re
familiar with, it certainly has that doom ‘n gloom atmosphere.
The Violent Burning’s influences burn brightly on this record.
"Blind" is what would probably happen if Radiohead fused with the
Cure. "Arabic Tremolo Radio" is pure ’60s/’70s psychedelia.
"Silver" has some Ride/dream-pop guitar melodies, with the same
swirling sad feel. "The Sun and the Sky" combines the Beatles,
Smashing Pumpkins, and Electrofixion. There are other Ian
McCulloch/Echo & The Bunnymen textures on here, too.
Led by singer/songwriter/guitarist Michael Pritzl, the Violent
Burning glides between radio-friendly, acoustic guitar-pop and
distorted dementia. While this creates a moody and haunting ride
that rises and falls comfortably, its lyrics are a bit troublesome.
"Underwater" is a cliched take on the whole
undertow/trapped-in-life metaphor ("Is it healing me or drowning
me?"). Then there’s the lovey-dovey cheese of "Crush" ("Let the
streams of light pour down on me/Let the love that heals set me
free"). Even their tortured, Bush-esque wrist-slasher, "Low"
frustrates the listener with its cornball angst ("I could die
here/And you wouldn’t even notice/You wouldn’t even protest"). "The
Sun and the Sky" has the only line worth raising an eyebrow about
("If I could be Superman/I would only wind up dead in the
end").
Despite the lack of lyrical talent and almost unemotional
vocals, the music here at least keeps the ship afloat. "The Violent
Burning" is a good late night record provided you don’t take its
verbal elements seriously. Mike Prevatt B-
Let’s Go Bowling "Mr. Twist" (Moon Ska) When the word "ska" is
lavishly tossed around to label such mainstream successes as No
Doubt and Goldfinger, it is questionable if the word will grow as
obsolete as the overly abused "grunge" moniker (Remember when
Candlebox was considered grunge!?). Whether or not the original
two-toners will cringe at the thought, the sudden popularity of
these "ska" successors could bring well deserved attention to
traditionally inspired bands like Let’s Go Bowling, who have been
carrying on the dance spirit that Madness and the Specials started
back in the day.
Let’s Go Bowling "will do it right into the 23rd century" with a
muted trumpet riff that recalls "Karma Chameleon" on the poppy "You
Take Me". It is not odd to hear 70s and 80s English pop intertwined
in each song or tons of instrumentals that sound like happy,
drunken improvs. The 16 alternating vocal and instrumental tunes
bring together a flawless horn section, upbeat rhythms, and a gamut
of styles from swing to jazz to salsa; "Cumbia Del Sol" could
easily find itself on the play list of L.A.’s Mexican radio station
KLAX. Naming the album "Mr. Twist" could have been a cop out way of
putting a song title as the album title or an intentional ploy to
inform the listener of what lies inside. Either way, twisting will
be the only thing you’ll do when the music’s playing. So grab those
bomber jackets and bowling shoes, finish your scotch on the rocks,
put on the second track "Spy Market," and start skankin’! Brendon
Vandergast B+
Ditch Witch "Starvation Box" (Grass) With a voice both sincere
and desperate, like a phone call from home, Ditch Witch’s album
"Starvation Box" both soothes and saddens. In waves of droning
bass, the lead singer pours out lyrics like "You get drunk and you
get stoned/ Lookin’ for a voice you can call your own/Forget about
the day ahead," in the song "Faked Smile." But it’s not just this
song that talks about the need to grab onto life when it’s slipping
by. It’s every song, and they keep coming one after another until
you realize that you feel like you’ve been thrown in a box right
along with the band, looking at the world, hungry for it, yet
denying yourself its fruits because you can’t quite figure out how
to go about getting them.
So you starve, listening to Ditch Witch’s almost cliched
back-home-country-Neil Young-style pained chords and rolling beats
that lie mere inches beneath the surface of an otherwise KROQ-esque
pop-rock-alternative-grunge band.
Acoustic and steel guitars take the album on a ride through the
back roads of the heartland for a short while, but then the very
next song returns to the more urban areas of a darkened land.
However, despite the flood of emotions possible from an innocent
play of "Starvation Box" on a rainy morning, the album leaves few
lasting images once it comes to an end. There remain no catchy
tunes to grab onto; yet, perhaps it’s a good thing, since it gives
you a chance to crawl out of that Starvation Box unscathed. Vanessa
VanderZanden B
Cone of Silence "Lift Twist and Jerk" (Cone Tower) Sometimes,
you try caffeine, you try alcohol, you try a multitude of over the
counter and under the counter drugs, but to no avail. Nothing can
make it better. Cone of Silence still sounds whiny and poppy, like
an obnoxious 9-year- old in a candy store who overzealously
imitates McCauley Culkin in "Home Alone" to the uncalled for squeal
of his delighted stage door parents. Every song sounds put on, as
though Cone of Silence is reaching inside their emotionless souls
for the cloned copy of someone else’s feeling that they can work
off of to create a drippy tune of plastic pain that the masses can
relate to. Even when they reach for an upbeat vibe, as in the song
"Pop Tart," the inappropriate use of a heavy metal guitar screech
hearken back to the David Lee Roth days of Van Halen, shaming the
snappy beats which drive the tune. But, getting back to these
snappy beats, we’re talking snap snap snappy like snap your friggen
head off they’re so damn snappy. Images of boppy frizzed-hair Cindy
Lauper wanna-be’s pop into the noggin’ after a few dozen tiring
beats. Add this nuisance to the lead singer’s irritating, stressed
out vocal shreddings and the experience becomes one never to be
repeated; if you’re lucky. However, if you enjoy empty lyrics that
coldly discuss love and sex, like the tune, "A Little Death (my
dear?)" which starts off with, "I once was only inclined to gaze at
you and undress your mind/But since I’ve shifted my focus so that
my gaze moves down your neckline/I don’t mean to be pointed but
we’d move forward if I’d ease you back," you may be impressed. You
may even lift, twist and jerk, but it’s not an action that’s
recommended. Vanessa VanderZanden C-
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