What is it about critical thinking nowadays that we compare the latest and greatest band (or fad or leaning) with one in recent memory, when it’s always more complicated than that? Yeah, I know, I do it too (perhaps this treatise is a form of my self-loathing), but I feel I must mend my ways from the quick and easy. So I’ll start my cleansing with America Give Up, the latest effort from the Minneapolis quintet Howler, a band that sounds like The Strokes (see, I did it again), an assessment I admit is a bit lazy even if it is sort of true.
Steeped in overt garage-rock tones, roaring guitars and a surf-rock-indie style ubiquitous as Subway restaurants, America Give Up is an album that grabs you from the get-go — it’s the kind of music the kids want to listen to. Which makes sense, bolstered by the fact it was made by a bunch of kids, led by 19-year-old Jordan Gatesmith (lead singer, guitar) and some of his high school buddies, the oldest of who checks in at the ancient age of 23. This youthful exuberance creates a work both loose and romping, but also yields sharp edges of Jesus and Mary Chain for good measure.
“Beach Sluts” gets the party started, alternating between driving, burly punk and relaxed stanzas of fuzzy guitar, set against a juvenile set of lyrics. For such a young age, Gatesmith’s voice has a breadth beyond his years even if he doesn’t have much to say. “Well I feel the same as I used to feel,” Gatesmith sings. “She’s stole my soul now it’s plain to see.” A Goethe Gatesmith is not.
Which is fine, since the music, and the attitude, are what matter most. “This One’s Different” powers along in a cacophony of clashing cymbals, the rolling guitars aping Albert Hammond Jr. as Gatesmith channels Joey Ramone. “Too Much Blood” is a moody drown of sound, an eerie set of strings and siren chords drifting behind Gatesmith’s best Jim Reid impersonation (pretty good too), while the two-minute “Wailing (Making Out)” has Wall of Sound written all over it. You get the feeling Phil Spector would try to do with Howler what he couldn’t do with The Ramones, except the whole being in jail for the next 20 years makes it a tad difficult to achieve.
Where Howler stumbles is a lack of experimenting — none of the songs attempt to forge any new ground or define the band as anything more than its influences. But in those influences is promise, for a band that can reference sounds from the past five decades shows it has a keen ear for what works. Who knows, 10 years from now hacks like me might compare the newest up-and-comers to Howler’s efforts from 2012 — and chances are good it won’t be too far off.
