She Said:

Last week at a rock show, I was talking to a friend who probably listens to a decent amount of music that could be described as "subtle." Mid-conversation, we both realized we were neck deep in a guitar solo that didn't know and didn't care that it was acting out a timeless cliché. "Shameless!" I exclaimed. But my friend replied, "You don't need to rely on irony or sentiment when you rock like that." No, you don't. Is there even room for irony or sentiment when tragico-absurdist guitar-heroism (and I mean that in the best way possible) is flooding the room?

While listening to the Bangs' second LP, Sweet Revenge, I got to thinking about this, and wondering if there really might be an inverse relation between irony and rocking. Let it be said that the Bangs do their job. They rock! They take glammy hard rock guitar work and run it through pop/punk song structures. Add smart-- though not particularly ambitious-- lyrics, and charismatic performances, and you have the Bangs' formula for pop songs that rock as hard as the British guitar-rock bands they reference. The Bangs don't waste any time and get the job done with 10 tightly written songs and a Cheap Trick cover in a half-hour flat.

Of course, things are never that simple. Or at least they're not that simple when you unnecessarily complicate them. There are several songs on this album about breaking up, which shouldn't come as much of a surprise considering the name of the album. And it's aptly titled-- the Bangs don't spend even one track moping over loves lost. If Natalie Imbruglia's relationship problems have left her "torn," the Bangs' fall-outs leave them ripping through power chords.

So, I was listening to the "Licorice Whip," the ninth track on Sweet Revenge. Up to this point, the vocals have recalled Joan Jett, Kathleen Hanna and, on "Docudrama," Tom Verlaine. But "Licorice Whip" is 100% Belinda Carlisle. Hand-claps punctuate the rhythm with meaty, flesh-on-flesh smacks, and the lyrics practically come courtesy of the Go-Go's Beauty and the Beat: "Bye bye, baby/ So long, sweetie/ You drive me crazy/ Bye bye, baby!"

"Yeah! Later, buddy!" The Bangs have me thinking about how gone "he" is. The Bangs have me right there with them. They continue, "You sweet talk me into stickin' it out/ But now I'm gonna say so long!/ Bye bye, baby/ So long, sweetie..."

But there was something missing from my comprehensive Sweet Revenge experience. People testing detergents need to have stained laundry on hand, right? You can't get a job product- testing Finese shampoo if you're bald! I needed a guy to dump. I called up Pitchfork. "I have to review this album the right way. Send me someone disposable." He arrived shortly.

He Said:

So, Pitchfork told me I'd get $10 for every hour I can stick it out. I'm supposed to try to hold my ground in the face of a girl who's listening to a break-up album, and wants to send my ass packing-- I'll assume that's you. Sure, this isn't traditional work, but it's not always so bad. Once I got sent to this hot chick who was listening to Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill. We laughed about how weird Alanis' mouth looks and made out, stopping every now and then to say, "Isn't this ironic?"

She Said:

No! Haven't you been reading this? This album isn't ironic! It doesn't have to be. Sure, the Bangs give a nod to genre clichés with lyrics like, "Hey you!/ Standing by the jukebox looking so cute!/ Hot stuff!/ Just the kind of boy I've been dreaming of," in "Train Wreck." But they never stray too far into kitschy territory despite some strong "hair-band" influences. You know, I just don't think you really get it. How about this-- you go, the Bangs stay.

He Said:

What? I was talking about my last assignment, not the record. You sure do have a one track mind. And fine if you want your bangs to stay, but a little trim wouldn't hurt-- you might be able to see better. Or at least not have to send away for a guy to try out your records on. Whatever. Forget the rest of the cash. You're a crazy bitch and I'm outta here.

She Said:

Wait! Don't go just yet! It looks like I might need you for something after all! Listen to the power ballad for me. It's "Undo Everything," track five. What does it remind you of? C'mon, I know you know this!

He Said:

Look, I don't know. It reminds of the Pulaski Skyway. Can I go? I don't even know if I'm going to live through this job.

She Said:

Thank you, that's it! "Undo everything you ever got me caught up in/ Unsay every word you ever spoke/ That I ever heard..." It's a smoother version of the melody Courtney Love sings aggressively on "Live Through This:" "Go on, take everything!/ Take everything, I want you to." That isn't very important because the timing is a little different, and lots of pop hooks are recycled, but it's certainly fun to imagine that the Bangs are directly addressing Courtney when they continue, "Everybody needs a hand to hold."

The Bangs finish off Sweet Revenge with a cover of Cheap Trick's "Southern Girls." The version is sincere. You can smell Rick Nielsen's white suit and hear a tinge of nostalgia in the girls' voices. And all of a sudden, it becomes clear. Sweet Revenge isn't really about breaking up with a boy or girl at all. It's about British guitar-rock and American heavy metal.

The Bangs seem educated in the smart sensibilities of northwestern female-fronted punk bands like Bikini Kill and Sleater-Kinney, but ground themselves in power chords and hard rock traditions to arrive at a sound that couldn't rightfully be called riot-grrl or even punk. The Bangs seem like they have the potential to make a more ambitious record than Sweet Revenge in the future, but for now, it does its job fine. Hey, who are you? What do you mean you "came with the album?" What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!

-Kristin Sage Rockermann