I'm starting a campaign to have guitar effects pedals classified as controlled substances. I'm not joking. Those rectangular metal buggers can be more damaging than any traditional narcotic. Sure, it starts out innocently enough-- you buy a wah-wah pedal so you can jam on "Voodoo Chile" with your friends. But when that's not enough, you'll find yourself wanting more pedals. And before you know it, you've spent three years' salary on a titanium-alloy flanger, hand-built by exiled Tibetan monks.

But that isn't the worst of it. Effects pedals aren't only financially damaging to a musician, but they're also capable of completely destroying the music he creates. All of a sudden, trite, unserviceable guitar hooks are given the semblance of a new life. Yeah, it's the same three notes, "but, shit, it's all vibrate-y!" The glossy, reverb-laden coat can cover up a totally unimpressive riff, and make it sound, at least to the musician, "cool."

How to Know is a textbook study of effects pedals gone bad. Especially that fucking tremolo pedal. Oh, how I hate that pedal. On almost every track, that damned thing rears its ugly little head. In fact, literally half of the album's tracks open with tremolo-drenched guitars playing remarkably similar parts. And the parts themselves are nothing to write home about, either: stale major chord progressions or guitar-student pentatonic riffs. But when the overused tremolo guitar intro fades, the Butterflies of Love create some pretty damned fine music.

How to Know's high point comes with the sincerely moving "Wild" which features Galaxie 500 atmospherics and a beautifully constructed vocal melody that's delivered with three times as much energy and sincerity as any of the record's other tracks. And the opening track, with its moody lyrics and complementing melody, is reminiscent of the Cure of the good old days. But while How to Know can be pretty damned compelling, a good part of it is uninspired. Tracks like "Assassins" and "Rob a Bank" follow the same formula: simple chord structures, listlessly delivered vocal lines, a bunch of atmospheric "oohs" and "ahhs" in the background, and one too many effects pedals. The album reaches its absolute low with "Floating," which combines possibly the most overused chord progression known to man with unbearably wanky bursts of wah.

I don't doubt for a second that the Butterflies of Love could one day go on to make a great album, but first they need to lose the pedals. Maybe they'll have an epiphany, trash the trem, and release a record full of brilliant hooks and unique chord progressions. But I doubt it-– guitar pedal addiction is hard to kick. There's a good chance that the band's two guitarists, Daniel and Jeffrey Greene, will eventually be forced into Effectaholics Anonymous. The first step: admitting that all the effects in the world can't save a sorry riff.

-Matt LeMay