The Blood Brothers have returned with another barrage of arty noise-punk tunes, entitled ‘Crimes.’ On this, their third full-length album, the band continues to expel huge bursts of energy topped by the double vocal attack of Johnnie Whitney and Jordan Billie, the latter of whom routinely wails like a banshee.
This explosiveness comes in response to their expansive, surrealistic lyrics (“I just want to join the party / But the confetti falling is razor-sharpened / I just want to blow out the candles / But the cake is sprinkled with punctured skulls” from ‘Celebrator.’) Each song is like a separate mini-story full of its own unique images, but listening to the album as a whole gives the impression of having witnessed a day in the life of someone very anxious yet intrigued by life’s idiosyncrasies, to the point where he or she mocks them.
‘Feed Me To The Forest’ starts the record off slow but heavy and plodding, as if the listener has just been sucked into a giant room full of unforgiving machines, before suddenly kicking into high gear. It returns to the slower part but, before the listener has the chance to get sick of it, segues into ‘Trash Flavored Trash,’ a song that almost makes this reviewer miss At The Drive-In a little less.
Indeed, the Brothers, who also include drummer Mark Gajadhar, bassist Morgan Henderson, and guitarist Cody Votolato, are worthy to help fill the void ATDI left in the indie-rock scene four years ago. They borrow the best from that band’s ‘Vaya’ phase and spit it back faster and more frenzied, while Billie’s voice is reminiscent of a rougher Cedric Bixler with dashes of Steven Tyler and Geddy Lee. They’re full of that same frenetic yet driving power that is danceable as well.
The lyrics, which bring up vivid images of depravity, are especially reminiscent of their post-punk predecessors, in their seeming inconsequentiality to the listener but apparent significance to the writer. “There’s a girl in a cage making love to a switchblade…/ There’s a priest in shackles building bombs out of bibles,” Billie screeches over the crashing cacophony.
‘Love Rhymes With Hideous Car Wreck’ is a quirky tune, complete with shaker and strategically placed handclaps, that takes the tempo and overall aggression down a couple notches. Whitney, whose voice is considerably lower, takes center stage here. His false British accent starts to lend a nod to many of the ‘80’s New Wave singers before Billie takes over for the chorus. From there they seamlessly jump into ‘Peacock Skeleton With Crooked Feathers,’ which showcases an electric piano and lyrics like, “There’s a peacock on your shoulder/ Pole dancing around your neck while reciting the Book of Revelation.”
‘Rats and Rats and Rats for Candy’ is a stand-out track with well-placed backing vocals and a rhythmic feel that’s in half-time but busy, making it feel more intense. Billie’s mocking tone again begs the lyrics be noticed. He tells the story of a date that goes terribly wrong- “The dinner was fine until she opened her mouth/ Oh, Candy! Yeah! / Oh, Candy! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! / Behind her teeth 15 rats started sniffing and sobbing/ When we were kissing in the car those rodents smoked cigars in her throat/ Blowing smoke/ Oh, Candy! Yeah! / Oh, Candy! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!”
After such a spastic surge, the title track is a welcome respite. The beat has a relaxed blues feel, as Whitney nihilistically describes he and his partners in crime as “just like those used condom wrappers: used up, torn up, and thrown away,” as well as comparing them to “yesterday’s headlines,” “scrapped valentines,” tangerine rinds, and apple cores.
‘My First Kiss At The Public Execution,’ along with ‘Rats,’ is one of the strongest, most memorable tunes on an already strong and memorable album. Not much is expected of it upon hearing the mega-noisy, distorted intro, but the band manages to suddenly shift gears into a polka-like verse before a launching into a chorus that simply rocks to the fullest extent. Billie and Whitney sing, “So won’t you hold me closer / Ow! / Just one more minute until the execution’s over / Ow!”
The final track, ‘Devastator,’ begins with an accordion and Billie demonstrating how Steven Tyler would sound if he were choir leader in a Southern Baptist church. His parishioners soon join in a chorus of jubilee before the rest of the band rushes in with the final assault. This song is for the bewildered listener, who has no doubt been contemplating throughout the entire record, “What is the meaning of all this?”
Billie and Whitney answer the plea with, “Everybody needs a little devastation,” relentlessly slamming the message down their throat over the rest of the band bashing away, before Whitney asks during the closing bars, “The party’s over / What was your favorite gift?”
Rather than end with a bang, the whole ordeal ends on a subdued note, the band letting its flippant mood float away, as if about to faint from such an excursion. With the album’s final sigh, Whitney sums up the band’s essence- “Charging like a bull with a funeral bouquet ready to explode.” |