I guess it shouldn’t come as a surprise, this gentle rise of Brit pop from the American hinterlands. The lasting dynamic of ’90s stalwarts Oasis, Pulp and Blur have filtered through the music of more and more upcoming indie bands, finding a solace in angular guitars and catchy choruses. And thank god for that, really, lest we be subjected to bands finding inspiration from American catastrophes Matchbox Twenty, Collective Soul or Third Eye Blind.
The latest band to enter the Brit fray is The Violet Lights, a rock duo from Los Angeles (by way of Green Bay, Wisconsin), whose debut EP Sex & Sound hits all the right notes in a satisfying yet ordinary way. I’ve read others denote the Violet Lights as a “garage” band, but that’s only if the garage comes carpeted, air conditioned and fashioned with a fancy door closer. Sex & Sound is not as gritty as it wants to be, but instead has uncovered a high degree of aseptic countenance.
Opening track “Your Love/Not Enough” is a jam after The Jam’s heart, a break of crashing drums and cymbals with lyrics and guitars set at a stern syncopation. Singer Joel Nass croons along at a clipped pace with the racing guitars, easing the tempo with a whispering bridge which builds to a typical crescendo. Ultimately, it’s the “Whoa Ohs” sprinkled throughout which draw me in the most.
“Substitute” has the most potential, a loud/quiet/loud track where Nass is having the most fun (he’s channeling his inner Damon Albarn), alternatively singing and snapping in sighs and bellows. The guitar breaks, while a bit ensconced in solo cliches, work well amidst the chaos – I get the sense they came into the song with all these ideas of how it should be, and instead of doing a little editing, kept all of it. Usually such acts become a disaster, here it succeeds.
It’s a lesson the Lights should pay attention to. The staid title track is a by-the-numbers pop pleaser which tries too hard – the hand clap break two-thirds of the way through is pure pandering – leaving me wondering if the band has the inventive chops for a full-length album. Album-ending “It’d be Fine” doesn’t help the matter, a tepid ballad where the sole benefit comes from the voice of Amber Garvey, who should sing more.
When American bands delve into Brit pop there’s going to be some missteps in translation, as Sex & Sound demonstrates, but this a solid effort. Whether or not the Lights continue to musically dwell across the pond remains to be seen, but it’s a development worth watching.
