Dear Pitchfork,
I have a request. From this point on, I would like to review only boy-bands. While in the past, I have written about singer/songwriters and girl groups, I think it's clear that my heart has been elsewhere. The boys got it! My heart is locked in the tender tension created between bad-boys and sensitive shy-boys (well, shy off the dance floor!). These boys work "n'sync" with each other to invoke a certain magic that bands who may happen to made of boys, yet stubbornly evade the boy-band dogma, could never incant.

Right now, I'm listening to the Explosion's self-titled EP. The Explosion are Jade Tree's latest boy-band, and the puffery created by their PR firm really has me going! Who needs inspiring music when the Explosion provide the hip smoke-and-mirrors of battle-of-the-band-caliber boys in tight, dirty-denim, swiping the catalogs of the Clash and Sex Pistols?

Their stupid name reassures by picking up with the "'The' + a violent verb" band-naming formula that was more timely when put to use by the Clash and the Fall. The font on the album's cover lets the Buzzcocks linger a little too long, and the extreme-contrast band photo whispers "The Clash's first LP" softly in your ear. However, the only sweet nothings Matt is whispering are goofy punk clichés like, "In your face is where we'll be/ Don't try to cross the line/ 'Cause you can't fuck with me/ We don't give a fuck." Neither do I, asshole! The Explosion break new ground for terrible boy-bands. I'm a hopeless boy-band fanatic, and I can't even care.

The "Fucking" Explosion, as they were hyped when they played a nauseating Jade Tree showcase featuring big-brother-boy-band the Promise Ring, continue to sing about not giving a fuck in the riveting song, "Channels:" "High on hopes/ Down on luck/ I've struck out/ I don't give a fuck."

If these guys were on Fat Wreck Chords like they should be, they'd get panned, but Jade Tree-hugging drones totally give a fuck, and hype the band as a revival of punk rebellion. For example, Splendid E-Zine describes the Explosion as "undescribable." The writer embarrassingly admits that they gave him "not only exactly what I've been looking for, but also what I oh-so-desperately needed." The idea of some guy getting aroused over skinny Boston rats singing about not giving a fuck over sloppy, fast riffs and punk chords makes me feel dirty. And the fact that most kids who buy this album have never heard Television's Marquee Moon makes me feel even worse.

These bad boys are more than just Boston's "other boy-band"-- they're hurting children and reaching new lows in a genre that has potential. The Explosion aren't good a good boy-band, they aren't a good punk band, and they certainly don't constitute a "fuckin' explosion."

For the boys,
Kristin Sage

-Kristin Sage Rockermann