Earlimart
Kingdom of Champions
[Devil in the Woods]
Rating: 6.8
Earlimart's second full-length for Devil in the Woods Records, Kingdom
of Champions, grows on you at a rate that would make the Andromeda strain
proud. Each time I listened, my tentative rating for it jumped at least a
point, to wind up at a respectable, if not outstanding 6.8. Which is fairly
impressive for a band that plays some of the most straightforward, guileless
music west of the San Andreas Fault. Initially, I vainly sought some higher
meaning or nobler purpose in the band's music. But the joke was on me; there's
only one level to Kingdom of Champions: a visceral level. So light
your smoke, drink your beer, lower your expectations, and enjoy the music.
Frontman Aaron Espinoza channels Social Distortion's Mike Ness fairly
effectively (sans the poor-man's Rob Halford faux-biker chic image) throughout
half the disc. Side-stepping harmonies work surprisingly well in place of
sneered ones, and the shouted backup vocal adds... well, shouting. The songs
are also very mildly dissonant, but in measured, tried-and-true ways.
Aside from the early Social Distortion feel, though, a lot of the ubiquitous
post-punk influences pop up blatantly, in that nose-on-your-face kind of way:
Hüsker Dü, Wire, Buzzcocks, the Fall and the Pixies. About the only thing you
couldn't see coming is the bass intro terrifyingly similar to Circle Jerks'
"15 Minutes" that makes an appearance on "Eileen." Dismiss that as coincidence,
I suppose.
Kingdom of Champions' highlight comes at the halfway mark in a
triumvirate of blessed, fortunate songs. The droning "Dead on the Dancefloor,"
which feels like a more agreeable "Levitate Me," declares "Backwards she bent/
And now she's dead/ She got what she asked for/ She's dead on the dancefloor/
She cut a rug." While far from revelatory, the lyrics affect through a
seditious whispered delivery. The balladry of the title track follows with
a casual and effortless grace that drifts from your consciousness almost
before you realized it was there, like a wisp of hickory campfire smoke.
"A.M. Countdown" recalls something borne out of the same Southern Gothic
sensibility that sustained bands like Pylon and the young REM for so many
years. Also in strong contention is the penultimate "I Can't Take This,"
which nods ever so slightly to their more rootsy debut, Filthy Doorways,
with rollicking verses set against its angrier, malevolent chorus.
Oddly, Earlimart chose to end Kingdom of Champions anti-climactically,
with a recorded drunk rant that clocks in at nearly 5½ wasted minutes. It
seems little more than an in-joke committed to plastic, and baffles with every
listen. I mean, far be it from me, whose bands have never made it to the
point of walking through the doors of a recording studio, to cast stones at
others. Still, my mama told me not to waste food because other people in the
world are starving. And this track stands out as one of the few poor
decisions here. Even weaker songs like "Cabin Fever" and "Tuxedos" don't bomb
as much as lurk in boring anonymity.
On this record, Earlimart abandons the country-folk leanings of their debut
full-length in favor of executing some fairly accomplished, pop-informed
post-punk. But they're not the second coming of your favorite defunct band,
as their influences might suggest. (Would you really want that, anyway?)
Rather, Kingdom of Champions has the feel of a local band made good.
Every mid-sized, Midwestern, middle-income college town has a dozen bands
just like Earlimart. You buy their records, go to their shows, and hang out
with the members. And you root them on, hoping they manage to make the jump
into the minor leagues where they can begin to get the recognition they
deserve. And if nothing else, Earlimart is one band that's worth rooting
for.
-John Dark