You’d think that a band that titled their album The World’s Best American Band may be getting ahead of themselves. But not every band is White Reaper. They might have just done it.
The second album from the Louisville, Kentucky natives somehow takes elements of ear-pleasing 70’s hard rock a-la Van Halen and a very coked-up Aerosmith, but imbues a punk immediacy that basically says ‘we can’t fuck with these theatrics if we can’t get out of this jam in 3 minutes or less’ – only two songs pass four minutes – one of those just barely does it.
The album’s best song is “Judy French,” a simple love song full of compressed guitars and keyboards that dance together with vocalist/guitarist Tony Esposito’s wild wail. Just as it sounds like the main riff is about to end, another grows in its place like some sonic hydra before launching into a blistering solo. It is one of 2017’s best songs, no matter what else is released this year.
“Little Silver Cross” slows things down a bit on a bed of synth keys, but the pace picks up quickly edging toward the chorus, as Esposito seems to almost command singing ‘too slow’ – the chorus bursts into something sounding a little euphoric – the message going from ‘too slow’ to ‘you gotta be good to yourself’. It’s a great catch your breath moment on a record with serious power riffage.
Songs like “The Stack” disarm with its glam stomp - the rhythm section on this album is VICIOUS - before it launches into some serious barroom piano shit. Sure, the lyrics indicate this is song about boys and girls in America - just like so many others on this record, but it doesn’t matter. They all just rule.
If I'm being honest, it really doesn’t matter where you start on The World’s Best American Band. Any point is fine, and that is not a usual recommendation. I've spent the past few weeks playing it start to finish, finish to start, and even shuffled it for shits and giggles. It’s a rock and roll prism that refracts its light in any direction. Sometimes the most revelatory things you come back to don’t really to teach you anything. Just like Esposito says on “Tell Me" – sometimes you just need to hear about "the mean kids crashing the bars and the good kids torching their cars". Depth is for the birds.
Editor's note: The original version of this review erroneously referred to the album title as "The World's Greatest American Band."
8.0 / 10
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