Goddammit, I wish it were summer.
It’s been a tough, long winter in Wisconsin this year. Now, in early March, the plowed snow still stands ten feet high. I honestly thought that blasted oversize chipmunk might be right when he predicted an early thaw this year, though. The temperatures started edging into the 40s, Mcdonald’s rolled out the Shamrock Shakes, all signs indicated spring. Then, guess what? Blizzard! I hit a drift driving to work, fucked up my exhaust to the tune of $400, and that’s enough, dammit. No more winter.
I want summer back. I miss it. For those of you not acquainted with them, I gotta tell ya, Milwaukee summers are something to live for. I can’t wait for the backyard cookouts, the tossing of extraneous furniture off the front porch, makeout time on the very same porch, as oblivious to the passer-by below as they are to us (unless we’re full of Everclear and yelling at them — it happens more often than you’d think). And I have a desperate need to roll down my windows in a prototypically american fashion, driving down the highway with the stereo up loud. And when I do this, I’ll be listening to Phantom Punch.
Sondre Lerche has a name I’m not sure how to pronounce and a pop touch that’s hard to beat. His second album, Two Way Monologue, was chock-full of Bacharach arrangements and managed the intriguing feat of each track sounding like an album closer. It’s a quality record. The pendulum swung farther afield on 2006’s Duper Sessions, which was pretty much undistinguished lounge-jazz, so reminiscent of Elvis Costello’s experiments in the style that it included a cover of “Human Hands.” A subsequent “rock” album was promised, but were we really to believe that? Isn’t that what Radiohead has said ever since OK Computer came out? “Next one’s gonna be the big rocker,” then bleepbleepbloopblop, theraindropstheraindropstheraindropstheraindrops, who fucking cares. The last time a band claimed their next album was going to be heavier and actually came through was 1991, when Slave To the Grind came out.
Phantom Punch kicks off with “Airport Taxi Reception,” a song that could easily have been on …but you can tell it’s leading somewhere else. And sure enough, when “The Tape” kicks in with noisy, splattery production, fuzzed guitars, and a healthy amount of attitude, there it is: rock and roll. Now, we’re not talkin’ AC/DC here, this is still Sondre Lerche, so the melodies are sticky sweet. So, what, you don’t like a little pop in your rock? Fuck you. It’s there in the obvious spots, like the Descendents-speed “Face the Blood,” it’s there in the chaotic end of “Well Well Well,” and it’s there in the salty love song “She’s Fantastic.” And the whole thing winds down with a seven-minute tension-ratcheting called “Happy Birthday Girl.” Rock and fucking roll.
Weather.com says it’s going to get up to about 55 today. So I’m going to drive to work with the windows open, blasting the best record I’ve heard this year. It’s time for Phantom Punch, and it’s time for the world to open up again.
4 Comments »
Pssh, you act as if I read the rest of the site.
Actually, I thought I’d put mine up because I seem to like the album for almost entirely different reasons.
i love having double reviews. just wanted to make sure to track back for the folks that didn’t know. 
The more I listen to the album, the more I like that he did spastic well, like he’s been a rocker from the start. Props. And, Chicago people, he’ll be in town on March 30, at the Double Door, of course.
RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI
Comment by joiezabel — March 12, 2007 @ 10:21 am
nice review. two good reviews, eh? i think i am going to give this album another listen this afternoon.