Category Archives: power pop

THE GENUINE FAKES – The Striped Album

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The Genuine Fakes are four guys from Sweden who share a love of skinny ties, moustaches, classic power pop and 90s indie-rock. In 2008 they were featured on ‘Beautiful Escape: The Songs of The Posies Revisited’, a sprawling triple-disc Posies tribute album containing a whole bunch of artistes you’ve likely never heard of, bar Ken Stringfellow, Joe Skyward and Jon Auer (that’s not at all arrogant to contribute tracks to a tribute release for your own band, is it chaps? [/sarchasm]).

For their debut full-length ‘The Striped Album’, The Genuine Fakes have created something which fuses that love of The Posies with Fountains of Wayne and a touch of Weezer, ensuring a listen which is not short on memorable hooks.

After an intro name-checking the band (an approach which reminded me of Mike Viola’s release with The Major Labels, at least in concept if not delivery), ‘The Promise’ lays most of The Genuine Fakes’ cards on the table straight away. The guitars create a wall of sound which is very Posies influenced; during the verses, Joey Fake’s crystal clear, slightly sugary vocal gets time in the spotlight, coupled with Morty Fake’s lively bass. If there’s anything which sets The Genuine Fakes apart from their similar sounding influences and contemporaries here, it’s the accompaniment from Tommy Fake, whose organ work has a slightly old fashioned quality. ‘Something New’ follows suit featuring huge jangly guitars, upfront bass and slabs of organ. Under a busy arrangement, it’s worth keeping a close ear on Morty – his bass work is very intricate, providing The Genuine Fakes with a necessary quirkiness under their otherwise fairly unrelenting wall of sound approach.

‘When Reality Hits You’ is a little simpler. A big drum sound drum sound drives the verses, but it’s the hooky chorus which aims to pull you in with multi-layered backing vocals which occasionally hint at ELO (never fashionable, I know, but power pop wouldn’t be the same without them!). Vocally, the call and response style chorus of ‘I Don’t Want It’ provides a standout moment – it certainly highlights the band’s knack for hooks, even if their arrangements can be a little full on.

After a typically crashy intro, ‘C’mon Linda’ has a spiky quality where Johnny Fake’s drumming is uncomplicated, but works well against Joey’s accompanying chords. The verses, in this respect, seem quite spacious compared to some of the band’s material, but once with multi-tracked rhythm guitars kick in on the chorus and bridge sections, they revert back to their not-so-subtle approach. As you may expect, the end result is still rather more Posies-meets-Weezer than Jellyfish or Silver Sun, but it’s certainly one of the band’s best numbers. The sugary qualities and unashamed woo-hoo’s present throughout ‘Star’ really drive home the classic power pop influences in The Genuine Fakes’ sound. The chorus harmonies are tight, the drums are solid (occasionally the cymbals are a little overdone, but there are enough layers and hooks here to distract you from those) and the swirls of keyboards have a sense of urgency.

‘Whatever Comes Your Way’ – the six minute epic which closes the album – captures The Genuine Fakes in a slightly more restrained mood. The jangly elements are still up front, but it’s all a little more relaxed (at least to begin with). For the closing instrumental part of the song, the crashing cymbals make their timely return, coupled with chiming guitars and another slab of organ (For those paying attention, you’ll spot this as being the same piece of music which provides ‘The Genuine Fakes’ intro). If there’s a slight downside to ‘The Striped Album’, it would be the lack of variety within the material – most of it comes at full pelt with little respite from the chiming guitars and crashing drums. However, listening to each song individually, there are absolutely no weak numbers here.

If the promise of catchy hooks thrown against a wall of sound is just not enough for you, ‘The Striped Album’ also includes a brilliant cover tune: Beyoncé’s ‘Irreplaceable’ appears in a great power pop arrangement. Morty Fake’s bouncy, upfront bassline provides a musical high point, while the vocals on the chorus are superb, making for a very infectious performance – and one which runs rings around the empty, mechanical approach of the original.

If you’re a fan of Fountains of Wayne, The Posies, ‘Be a Girl and ‘Bagsy Me’ era Wannadies or other similar types of jangly pop/rock, check out The Genuine Fakes – despite its lack of subtleties, ‘The Striped Album’ should appeal.

October 2010

ORANJULY – Oranjuly

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Fronted by song writer, arranger and multi-instrumentalist Brian E King, Oranjuly’s brand of power pop is one which instantly sounds familiar. Packaged in a sleeve which looks like a Fuzzy Felts recreation of a 1970s kitchen, Oranjuly’s debut album’s influences may all be pieces from a musical past, but like so much great power pop, the end result is timeless – and thanks to great song writing, the album is one which stands up to repeated listening and gets better with every play.

After a gentle intro, the opening rock chords of ‘Her Camera’ would suggest that this debut is noisier than it turns out to be, with its wall of guitars (using a tone which very much recalls ‘Flagpole Sitta’ by Harvey Danger) but this soon falls aside, making way for stabbing keyboards, dreamy vocals and bass/drum parts which cheekily give to the nod to The Beach Boys, specifically ‘God Only Knows’. The Brian Wilson fixation becomes more obvious during a really tight vocal interlude. Keen to grab your attention, the second half of the song manages to combine all of these elements, which creates something a little hard to take in at first, but it works well as a whole. They swiftly follow this with ‘Mrs. G’, which is much more user-friendly. Again, there are lavish harmonies and a bit of a kitchen-sink approach to the arranging, but the stabbing keyboards and bittersweet Ben Folds-esque lyric should be enough to win you over.

‘Personal Ads’ marks a return to a more guitar driven style rock/pop. The verses are full of vocal harmonies overlaid with twinkling keyboard noises, but it’s the simple hook on its noisier chorus which is bound to stick in your head. Let’s just say someone here is a fan of Weezer! My personal preferences lean towards the album’s softer 10cc and Badfinger styled material, but this is still hugely enjoyable. If you’re also someone who favours the seventies style of power pop, ‘South Carolina’ will please you with its McCartney/Wings inspired rumpty-tumpty rhythms. After an acoustic beginning and gentle vocal, a Ringo-esque drum fill leads the band in, including a bass line which, to begin with, sounds equally simple. As the song progresses, the bass line features a couple of great fills and the mid-section features an effective tack piano. The McCartney-isms here would have no doubt pleased the Jellyfish chaps too – though undoubtledly, they would have struggled to keep the arrangement so straightforward…

‘I Could Break Your Heart’ features one of the album’s best arrangements. The chorus here is pure bubblegum goodness, with a slightly sixties vibe reminiscent of Mark Bacino. Again, you’ll find harmony vocals in abundance, but one of its best features is a brief Matthew Sweet style guitar solo, which makes top use of multi-tracked guitars. ‘The Coldest Summer’ has verses which utilise some rather melancholy harmonies – again evoking so much great seventies pop – which musically, is incredibly strong, with flourishes of slide guitar, bell noises and handclaps. Throw in some subtle electric piano and twin guitar harmonies and – clocking in just shy of three minutes – you have a masterpiece. While most power pop provides a soundtrack for summer days, there’s always something mesmerizing about those moments tinged with sadness, especially when they are so well crafted.

Despite its title, ‘Hiroshige’s Japan’ has a very wistful English psych-pop quality. This harpsichord and brass number could have been from 1968. While it has rhythmic similarities to The Beatles’ ‘Blackbird’, the focus on harpsichord makes it hard not to think about the deeply sad ‘A Rose For Emily’, from The Zombies classic ‘Odessey and Oracle’. While the harpsichord is the featured instrument here, additional trumpet work adds some great atmosphere.

Like Jellyfish before them, these guys have a gift for arranging that, when done well, is always a pleasure for the listener. …And while Oranjuly wear each of their influences on their collective sleeves, this self-titled album is none the worse for it. With ten songs and no duds, this debut ranks alongside Owsley’s self-titled disc in terms of great power pop debuts. You owe it to yourselves to check it out.

September 2010

 

WEEZER – Hurley

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With its well constructed songs, great hooks and dorky themes, Weezer’s self-titled debut (released in 1994) is a power pop classic. Fact is, back then, Rivers Cuomo and Matt Sharp knew how to write songs. And those songs combined with great production from Ric Ocasek (best known for being one of the key members of 70s/80s new wave band The Cars) have undoubted gone a long way to paying the bills for Weezer ever since. After all, nearly everyone of a certain age has seen that Spike Jonze video for ‘Buddy Holly’ set in the Happy Days diner…right?

‘The Blue Album’ (as it is often called) featured not only that monster hit, but some other songs which have rightly become cult classics, becoming a triple platinum seller in the US and double platinum in Canada. How do you follow such success? If you’re Weezer, you don’t even try. ‘The Blue Album’s successor, 1996’s ‘Pinkerton’, features little of the perfection Weezer had displayed on their debut. Ric Ocasek had been ousted from the producer’s chair and in place of the debut’s easily accessible power pop songs, ‘Pinkerton’ was a slab of discordant darkness, questioning songs and the sound of troubled souls. Naturally, it wasn’t what most people were expecting.

Weezer then took an extended hiatus, eventually returning after five years (minus Matt Sharp) with their third disc – a second self-titled album (again produced by Ric Ocasek). ‘The Green Album’ sounded very much like ‘The Blue Album’, but not as strong. The fact that it contained a lot of the spark that made me like Weezer in the first place was a step in the right direction, but still, it wasn’t a patch on the debut. It’s really then – circa 2002 – that Weezer began their downward spiral of releases containing substandard material, culminating in the release of 2009’s ‘Raditude’ – an album loaded with autotuned ugliness and almost entirely bereft of songs.

It was important, therefore, to put their 2010 release ‘Hurley’ into some sort of context. With their last four releases made up of songs ranging from forgettable to flat out awful, Weezer have seemingly let down fans time and again, with only the re-release of ‘The Blue Album’ (released as a two disc deluxe version in 2004) alleviating the ever escalating disappointment. Weezer don’t have a great track record, it’s true, but there’s no way that ‘Hurley’ is as bad as ‘Raditude’…is there?

‘Hurley’ (housed in a wordless sleeve featuring a photo of Jorge Garcia) is Weezer’s eighth album and the opening moments of ‘Memories’ (the album’s lead single) might lull you into thinking things could be okay, but before too long, a distorted noise kicks in and makes a half-arsed chorus almost unlistenable. The bridge section after the second chorus features a spark of what used to make Weezer great, but this in turn is also spoiled. Here, Rivers Cuomo shouts out the last line of his vocal in a manner which is unrestrained and nasty. ‘Ruling Me’, on the other hand, is power pop brilliance: a great chorus (and pre-chorus too) and simple harmony vocals give the track all the elements of classic Weezer, a feeling reinforced by the use of the kind of chord patterns which swamped their ‘Blue’ and ‘Green’ discs. The fact that they can still do this just makes those years they wasted by not doing it all the more unbearable… Similarly, ‘Hang On’ employs a huge chorus and some fantastic harmony vocals and a really solid arrangement. Cuomo’s lead vocal could do with being tightened up and toned down a little, but there are so many great power pop hallmarks here, it should appeal to all but the most curmudgeonly of Weezer sceptics.

‘Where’s My Sex?’ falls somewhere in the middle. Chugging downstrokes recall early Weezer, but while its big chorus demonstrates that the band can still cut it when they want to, silly lyrical content lets it down. Here, “sex” is actually “socks” – and Cuomo can’t go out without any. It’s a brave attempt at bringing back the geekiness that made so much of ‘The Blue Album’ fun (and a change of pace near the song’s end is surprising) but after so long, its sounds like too much like a contrived attempt at re-creating the band’s early signature sound. A tongue-in-cheek tale of being a rock star, ‘Trainwrecks’ is very commercial, but not commercial in the geeky power pop way Weezer’s best work has been previously. There’s a shininess and an 80s AOR edge to be found beneath the chugging chords; the sound of something bigger than Weezer. It’s a co-write with Desmond Child (co-writer of some of Bon Jovi’s big 80s hits), so that should give you a clue as to where that “something bigger” comes from. Opening with the sound of a choir, the song then opts for a riff that sounds like John Waite’s 80s radio classic ‘Missing You’, although played with a trademark Weezer chug. Rather more mature than you’d associate with Weezer, certainly; better than you’ve come to hope for from Weezer by this point? Definitely.

‘Run Away’ begins with a lo-fi intro, before the whole band come crashing in on a tune which shows promise. The chorus isn’t as strong as it could have been, and Cuomo’s slightly shouty delivery grates a little and the riffs aren’t quite as good as those from ‘Trainwrecks’, ‘Where’s My Sex?’ and especially ‘Ruling Me’. But despite all of these negative qualities, the song manages to hit the spot somehow – partly due to the simple ‘oohs’ on the backing vocal. Certainly not the best song ‘Hurley’ offers, but so, so much better than most of Weezer’s post-2001 recordings. The thin, wobbly vocal and drum machine during the verses of ‘Smart Girls’ are horrible, but the chorus has enough oomph to win you over. The production here is great; there’s a mini wall of sound to rival Ric Ocasek’s style on those earlier Weezer discs and, as with the album’s other great choruses, there are enough backing vocals and harmonies to balance out any misgivings you may have. To begin with, ‘Unspoken’ provides some respite from the huge blocks of sound. The intimate setting of Rivers Cuomo, his acoustic guitar and harmony vocal make up the bulk of the song. There’s a happy and confident vibe here – the heartache and emptiness of ‘Pinkerton’s closing number ‘Butterfly’ a distant memory.

‘Brave New World’ (a co-write with Linda Perry) features the classic early-Weezer-by-numbers sound present on at least half of this album (though, in their hearts, that’s surely what most fans want). It’s not quite so simple, though, this is heavier than any of its ‘Blue’ or ‘Green’ album counterparts, though for all of its density, it carries none of ‘Pinkerton’s darkness. ‘Time Flies’, on the other hand, is a little bit more interesting. Driven by distorted acoustics and a bass drum marking time, it closes the album with an upbeat stomp which manages to sound halfway decent, regardless of an iffy vocal and the feeling of a Cuomo demo experiment. It’s one of those tracks which is infectious in a good way at first and then after a few spins becomes slightly annoying…

Despite being disappointed by Weezer so often, every time they release something, there’s always a deep rooted feeling that wants to believe there are going to be some decent songs. It would be stupid to believe that anything they release could be a complete return to form, but there’s always the hope for something halfway enjoyable.  After ‘Raditude’,  it didn’t seem like too much to hope for – and ‘Hurley’ is okay, it breezes along merrily and could appeal to the undemanding.  It’s better than ‘Raditude’ for sure, but then for it to be worse would have been impossible – if not career suicide.

For the sparks of greatness we should be partly thankful, but aside from a few shining stars, ‘Hurley’ still represents Weezer’s journey through the average.  There are so many other bands that do this kind of thing better…it shouldn’t take you too long to find one.  In the meantime, go to the link below and download ‘Ruling Me’, ‘Hang On’ and ‘Trainwrecks’. They’re better than anything on ‘Raditude’ and possibly better than anything Weezer has released since 2001.

September 2010

JUSTIN KLINE – Six Songs EP

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six songsHailing from Nashville, Justin Kline is a singer-songwriter whose work fits neatly into the power pop niche. The world has seen many similar musicians; however, Kline is a gifted multi-instrumentalist, providing this self-released EP with its vocals, guitars, bass and keyboards. As for his overall musical style, he takes the bounciness of mid-60s Brian Wilson (though hopefully without the cupboard full of skeletons), the brilliance of Brendan Benson and the all-round professionalism of pop revivalists Jellyfish, proving fully understands the best ingredients required to make a great power pop record.

While each of the EP’s songs has something of note, that spark of greatness is at its most obvious during ‘How I Became The Wind’ – a track resplendent in sunshine grooves, stabbing keys, sleigh bells and a knowing smile. The drum pattern which drives the piece evokes the marching vibe from Jellyfish’s ‘Ghost at Number One’ – always welcome – while his distinctive vocal strives for pop perfection. The lead voice is counterbalanced by rather effective whoahs on the chorus section and harmony vocals are well placed during the verses. Aside from a spacious, organ driven break midway, ‘How I Became The Wind’ is a tight, near perfect, slice of power pop. ‘Heart Attack’ works its magic via a semi-acoustic shuffle before a stomping chorus takes hold. Kline’s high vocal pitch gives this sixties-inspired number a striking, if occasionally sinister edge. Although the approach is a standard jangle-pop one, the punch of the chorus gives the arrangement an extra sharp quality. The closing section has a slightly claustrophobic quality, leading to Kline’s vocal cracking under the delivery of the last line. ‘All I Need’ features one of Kline’s best vocals. Here, his higher registers are saved for a multi-vocalled chorus; musically, it’s another fabulous number – one which wouldn’t be out of place on Mark Bacino’s ‘Pop Job’ long-player (which, you all really should check out if you haven’t already). While the verses have a light airiness, it’s the sharpness of the chorus, followed by a multi-layered vocal and Brian Wilson-esque theramin sound which provide the track’s most memorable elements.

‘Singing In The Air’ opts for a rumpty-tumpty rhythm which hints at country-pop, especially with the subtle use of steel guitar and twangy guitar lead midway. You’d be hard pushed to mistake it for a country tune beyond that though, as Kline’s vocal retains the pop shine it delivers on the rest of the EP. ‘Kaleidoscope’ offers something a little more complex with its fuzzed up vocals, guitars and harder edges. The punch on the chorus once again recalls Jellyfish, Jason Falkner and Brendan Benson, while a trippy instrumental break utilises understated oohs and ahs against a gentle mellotron-esque sound, making it another hugely enjoyable listen.

The closing number, ‘Sunshine’ sounds, at first, like it’s going to be a slightly lower-key acoustic song; the acoustic elements here are more pronounced, that’s true, but once everything finds its groove, it becomes a solid piece of bubblegum pop. For the first couple of spins it was as good as most of the EP’s material, then after a few more listens the cracks began to appear: the overly optimistic lyrics are a little cloying, but the musical arrangement helps carry it off…almost. That optimism (which might be a religious thing, I’m undecided) gives the EP a positive ending, but its over-enthusiasm, for me, makes it the most skippable track.

Although a little flawed in places, ‘Six Songs’ is highly recommended for power pop connoisseurs; a release which ought to place Justin Kline alongside Mike Viola and Mark Bacino as one of the great champions of timeless pop.

Get mp3s here.

August 2010

THE LASHES – Get It

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The Lashes’ debut EP, ‘The Stupid Stupid’, was issued on the almost legendary Lookout! Records label, once home to many top-notch punk bands. By The time of their full length release ‘Get It’, two years later, the band had been snapped up by Sony, obviously spotting potential in the Seattle sextet’s fusion of power pop, hard rock and emo.

Opening this album, the intro keyboard wash of ‘New Best Friend’ reinforces the power pop elements of The Lashes’ sound. Nearly all of the band’s traits are here in this opening track: punchy guitars, solid rhythms and keyboard filler (and do I hear handclaps?); and from that perspective ‘Get It’ is an album with very few surprises. ‘A Pretty Girl Is Like A Melody’ takes The Lashes’ love of classic new wave-ish rock/pop further, without compromising any of the guitar punch…and in just over three minutes – and via a big debt to Weezer – they have you reeled in. If you’re a sucker for guitar driven melodies coupled with decent hook, then you’ll probably love this.

The spiky ‘Safe To Say’ carries elements which call to mind the 00’s garage revival of bands like The Strokes, but more tuneful. While one of the weaker numbers from ‘Get It’, it showcases the bands slightly more aggressive side and also highlights how it doesn’t always work when they try something outside their comfort zone. This is counterbalanced some way by ‘Dear Hollywood’, a rumpty-tumpty piece of rock/pop with a greater focus on the piano than most of The Lashes’ other material. Again, this only strengthens any claim that power pop is at the heart of The Lashes’ craft, as opposed to anything punkier…

‘Daddy’s Little Girl’ has the makings of a classic. Via its great hooks and decent tune, I’m reminded a great deal of the criminally ignored mid-90s glam-pop band Beat Angels, thanks to slight Cheap Trick-isms and handclaps. In terms of stuck-in-your-head-goodness, ‘The World Needs More Love Letters’ is an equal match with its pop-driven chorus and Greg Hawkes inspired keyboards. ‘Dear Hollywood’, the album’s lightest offering, is piano-driven pop with hints of Ben Folds and Jason Falkner at their most bouncy. Also worthy of a mention is ‘Sometimes The Sun’, which is poppier than a lot of the material here, slightly jaunty, but not too obviously quirky. It’s another track which shows The Lashes playing to their strengths. Musically, it hangs off a simple guitar twang which doesn’t really carry a tune in itself; the melodies are crafted via a particularly overstretched vocal approach, which eventually arrives at a simple but pleasing hook.

Given The Lashes’ influences and knack for a decent chorus, on the surface ‘Get It’ should be an enjoyable ride, due to its disposable qualities. Sadly, there’s a weak link throughout – and that weak link is Ben Clark’s vocal. It sounds like a strong voice, but he’s chosen to sing with an irritating emo like affectation. It’s trashy enough to suit most of the songs on offer; however, when pushed to the levels a lot of these songs require, it can become an annoyance. …And for me, that’s enough to stop ‘Get It’ ever obtaining that cult classic status it could’ve been capable of achieving.

January 2010/July 2010