For our next review, we’re going to do some creative visualization. First, I’d like you to close your eyes. Breathe in, breathe out, clear your mind. There, that’s good.
Now, I’d like you to imagine a rock band. Five players, in the standard format for bands of that size: two guitarists, a bassist, a keyboard player, a drummer. Make sure they’re wearing something to mark them as “indie” — maybe dress a couple of them in too-tight polo shirts with horizontal stripes, and then give the others an open button-down shirt over a dark tee. Just for the heck of it, to complete the look, give a couple of them glasses that they stole from Elvis Costello’s nightstand. You can make them have dopey expressions on their faces, but at least in the promo pictures, don’t let any of them smile.
Have you got that picture in your mind? Excellent. You’re doing great. Do a couple more of those deep breathing things if you want — you’ll probably need it.
All right, now we’re going to move to the next part of our exercise. I’d like you to imagine this band playing their instruments. Make sure there are some light but choppy guitar riffs playing, the kind you’ll hear twenty years from now filling up disc five of The Complete Kaiser Chiefs boxed set. Now, if you will, imagine some lazy, one-finger bass playing. I’d like you to add a fluffy, feathery coating of synthesizer sounds — imagine Linda McCartney playing from the sheet music to Seven and the Ragged Tiger. I don’t want to tax your minds too much, so feel free to use the drummer from Panic! at the Disco if you want.
Actually, if you’re having trouble holding all of those details in your minds, you can use the entirety of The Bravery as your template, but be sure to purge from the music any last remaining vestiges of creativity. It’s for your own good, I promise.
Now, as our final exercise, I want you to focus on the kick drum. Try to visualize the letters on that drum, the words that they’re forming. They should make a phrase, preferably an in-joke that isn’t actually funny, one that conveys the idea of humor but that lacks anything to make you laugh. Something like “Scissors for Lefty” ought to do.
Congratulations. You’ve now recreated the experience of Underhanded Romance, without having to suffer through all 11 tracks of it.
Indeed, the second album from San Francisco’s Scissors for Lefty represents what I hope against hope is the nadir of the new wave revival in almost every respect. It’s a turgid, repetitive, tired affair, one that lacks any sense of joy, beauty, or skill. One site described the band’s music as “flirty,” but its more lascivious moments sound more like someone who doesn’t speak any English trying to sound out the words to the script of a Benny Hill sketch. The music not only has no originality — it doesn’t even have any inspired rip-offs. It’s the musical equivalent of copying all the answers for your exam from the kid in front of you, even though he’s only making a C in the class anyway.
Oh, and there are lyrics. Here is a sample: “I don’t love you, but I love, love, love you, and I don’t miss you, but I miss, miss, miss you” (from “Got Your Moments”). No, it doesn’t really get any better than that. But thanks for asking. You’re the best.
I tried to think of something good to say about this album, just so that you wouldn’t think that I can’t say anything nice, but the best I could do is to note that listening to “Wandering Arms” means that I now have a much better idea what a Chris Isaak tribute album to The Killers would sound like. For whatever that’s worth. Also, I’m pretty sure that “Marsha” would be a good theme song for one of those teen shows on the CW — probably one that’ll get canceled halfway through the first season. We should give it a name, like Dreamforest Lagoon, or Santa Monica Nightz, or Some Barely-Legal Girls in Bikinis Have a Relationship Crisis. Then They Have Another One…
Anyway, that last bit was a pleasant distraction from thinking about this album. Now, if you’ll forgive me, I think I’m going to go find another one.
Release date: June 12, 2007
Label: Rough Trade
Rating: 3/10
7 Comments »
I couldn’t have said it any better. Absolutely unbearable. I dont get all the hype? about this band???
Whats with the fake British accent. The singer should hang out with Madonna and they can practice. He’s hardly believable. Can someone pass me a bucket.
You gave them a 3 out of 10? Why not zero? You had *nothing* nice to say.
I don’t give zeroes — I do give tens, and I want to stick with a ten-point scale instead of an eleven. I reserve ones for things that aren’t just awful, but are vomitously and horribly offensive to the very idea of music; I think the only thing I’ve actually given a one to was that Bossa Nova tribute to Guns ‘N Roses.
You’re right though, in that a three is probably high. I should have given this album a two.
Just one more wafer please.
This stinks… The singers oohs and high pitched digital ahhs are enough to make one vomit.
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Comment by Christine — June 25, 2007 @ 3:05 pm
Um… sorry… you lost me at “Elvis Costello’s nightstand”…