Flupejac are bad. And now for broad, obvious simplifications for the sake of filler.

Just how does one define "indie rock," anyway? Don't worry, I'm not going to bore you with any definition. I certainly can't come up with one, at least not without some serious over-analysis. I mean, people associate certain aesthetics, sounds, and rhythms with indie rock, or whatever it is they've come to correlate with the term. But there's also a complete division between the terms "indie rock" and "independent rock." "Indie rock" has come to represent a genre, a stylistic term; "independent rock" represents the marketing standpoint.

Flupejac are not "indie rock"; Flupejac are "independent rock." They've released their debut mini-LP, Like It Is, on their brand new label, Land Speed Records. They're trying to generate word-of-mouth based on their own DIY needs. And they've got plenty of people saying good things about them. Hilary Rosen, for one, named them the Ultimate Band List's "Alternative Pick of the Week." This already discourages indie rock fans, because something indie can't also be alternative. Not to mention that Hilary Rosen is, in fact, the ultimate be-all, end-all goddess of the dark underworld. But my lawyers advise me to distance myself from that topic.

Alternative is a good way to describe Flupejac. Pick your Creed, your Goo Goo Dolls, even some of your Nirvana, put 'em in a batter with some milk and eggs, pour 'em in the frying pan, and you've got yourself some rancid Flupejacs. They're the kind of band that Hilary Rosen would like. They seem like they could have a hit pretty soon if they really work it, which they seem to be doing successfully. So since they already have plenty of good word of mouth, I really don't mind being the one nay-sayer of the bunch so far.

"Brand New Heavy" kicks off the record with a sound made popular by the Matchbox Twentys of the world, albeit slightly more driving, to make the Goo Goo Dolls comparison more fitting. And there'd be no reason to quote lyrics, other than to point out how ridiculously, laughably banal... Okay, so here's the first verse: "Give yourself away, give yourself away/ Or just give yourself the day/ What color is your loneliness?/ Is it blue or is it gray?" And later in the song, he, like, replaces "your" with "my." Because he's lonely, too! How subtle. Not even emo deserves this album. It doesn't even deserve the term "album." Eight songs in 25 minutes! Weak!

Although it perfectly matches to the style represented on Like It Is, the unremarkable vocal delivery by Chris McRitchie is entirely unpleasant while it occurs, and forgotten immediately afterwards. Amongst the phalanx of Creed clones that follow the first track, there's also a punk rave-up that becomes later reminiscent of the early days of Nirvana, complete with forced Cobain inflections on some of the lines. But you know, except for that, the overused chord progressions, the tinny and unlistenably boring solos, the production (too hi-fi to be lo-fi and vice versa), and the songs in general, we've got a winner of a record. Hilary Rosen says so.

-Spencer Owen