Someone, somewhere, deep in PRE HQ, a man with a beard proudly proclaimed, “More cowbell!”
Or at least that’s how I see it; how else can you explain the suddenly less-bumpy sound of one of rock’s prickliest pears?
I’m not saying I don’t like it, either. It’s punk-y, energetic and perhaps easier to enjoy than the PRE-rinsed grooves of old.
This is like the transition from the first Daughters record to the second: You can tell some feelings will be hurt, but in the end maybe it’s for the better.
Come to think of it, PRE’s transition circa Hope Freaks is much more graceful, and it comes at a convenient time, as lo-fi, scratchy performances by the likes of Black Lips, Wavves, Jay Reatard, Times New Viking and too many more to mention have turned fuzzy punk into the next orchestral pop (remember when everyone sounded like Sufjan?).
I think this trend will yield a lot more fruit, and if you’ve been digging on the Blank Dogs you know what I mean. But back to PRE — this band is a lot quirkier than any of the buzz-bin bands mentioned above, and just as fucking good if not better.
Tunes like “Why Be Wives” make the difference. It shucks, it jives, it zoooooooooms into action on the heels of a bulbous bassline and never lets your attention waver from there.
That bassline; awww hell … it’s a goddamn roudy piece of action. I can only imagine the damage this ass-crammer is doing on the tour circuit, the peaceful freak-indie folks suddenly jerking around like Warped Tour retards as soon as it bursts from the speakers.
I never thought I’d say this, but it only gets messier and more pervertedly prurient from here. The very next track carts in a bloody head-bash of a riff and Arab On Radar skronk to go with an electroclash beat and copious cowbell.
Yes, more cowbell. PRE are doing new and exciting things with the general AOR/Six Finger Satellite formula. It’s menacing stuff, creepy like a park predator and full of deviations a la Made In Mexico that scrape every last bit of appeal out of a song.
Not that these cuts pucker up for more than a minute or two each. This record is but 22 minutes deep, and while some would feel cheated by this arrangement I take pride in audio economy (I’m thinking of Daughters again here).
I’ve also found that the groups with one- or two-minute tunes tend to pack more into them per-square-track. It’s a win-win sitch.
I’m prepared to drop more names, btw: Athletic Automation, Get Hustle, Aids Wolf, Chinese Stars, Fat Day, Les Georges Leningrad … I can do this all day you know … OK I’m going to bed.
I’m not gonna say buy Hope Freaks before it goes out of print, mainly because it doesn’t have tits on the cover or anything. But, you know, it never hurts to see the wavvvvvves coming.
