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Review:
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To some extent, The Young Antiques defy categorization, combining
classic garage rock, post-punk, and country (among other styles).
Other minons have called them "derivative" of bands like The
Replacements. Local legend has it that if you ask the band to
describe itself, they will say, "Eurocanapowerpop." Yes, that's
sort of a combination of 60's-style Euro-pop, Americana-pop,
and power-pop. Perhaps, then, one could say that the overall
theme here is pop. They certainly are poppy, with catchy melodies,
wailfully strong vocals, and lyrics that alternate between wise
social commentary and Friday night high school heartache. Even
so, I don't think they're ready for Kasey Casem just yet, or
more accurately, I don't think American mainstream radio is
ready for them. Guitar rock on Top 40 radio is still too mired
in the mourn(moan)fully bland, pseudo-spiritualized epics of
Creed and the hostile rap metal of Linkin Park to welcome the
3-minute gritty and cynical songs of The Young Antiques.
But, I think their day may be coming: more than just about
any local band I've heard over the last year or so, The Young
Antiques' sound immediately grabs the listener, both at live
shows and on Wardrobe For A Jet Weekend, their
first full-length release. Recorded in 2000, only two years
after the band's formation, the album is surprisingly tight,
offering short and powerful tunes with both a rock edge and
a danceable beat. Perhaps that's because the band got off to
a promising start by recording an EP, On a Beach On a
Mountain, in just three days shortly after they formed
in 1997.
Because the band is only a trio, their live
shows are often garage parties with a lot of sound but little
complexity. The album, on the other hand, hints of the band's
eclectic tastes and talents, including harmonicas, e-bow, and
even toy piano. On standout tunes like Bad Lucky Street,
tambourine rhytmns add another layer of emphasis to an already
driving, staccato chorus. Other songs like Missing Man
and The Last Thing include straight-out guitar riffs,
drum rolls, and angry lyrics. On the other hand, Bury Me
Down is a small town ditty that highlights the band's country
influence with great pick work on the dobro. After a close listen,
you understand how the band can defy categorization.
You know, Wardrobe For A Jet Weekend really is
roots rock with pop and a couple of twists -- nothing earth
shattering, no great musical inventions. Even though it may
not be rocket science, I like this album. Few indie rock bands
include enough emotive lyrics, interesting combinations of strings,
and a constant bopping beat to withstand my "workout" test:
I can take this CD to the gym and walk the treadmill for a full
30 minutes without having to skip a song. Hey, if you can sweat
to it at the gym and then listen to it in the car on the way
home, it's gotta be pretty good.
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