Blenderhead
Figureheads on the Forefront of Popular Culture
[Tooth and Nail]
Rating: 6.7
Last time I wrote about a Tooth & Nail band I made tons of silly Jesus jokes.
But, since yesterday was Easter Sunday, I'll try to refrain. Blenderhead is a
Christian emo band (henceforth known as "Chremo") from the Seattle area. The
members all cite Jawbox as a major influence and that seminal D.C. band's
fingerprints are smudged all over this release. Of peripheral interest is the
fact that guitarist Ed Carrigan once spent time playing with Damien Jurado and
their labelmates in Starflyer 59, though you wouldn't guess it from this album.
Blenderhead was conceived in 1992, around which time they released a couple
full-lengths before disbanding in '95. But absence must have made the
collective heart grow fonder or something, because in 1998, they reunited with
the new addition of Tyler Vander Ploeg on guitar.
If this were an instrumental album, I'd have rated it a point or so higher.
The guitar work takes much from Jawbox, though the bent is definitely a little
more punk, and the approach not quite as sophisticated. Still, these twelve
tracks are crammed with pretty interesting chords, nice guitar interplay, and
tight drumming.
The opener, "I Gave Her My Heart, She Gave Me a Pen," is a better-than-average
song with one of the album's stronger vocal melodies. As with many of the
album's tracks, there are several time and tone shifts, and these are
accomplished without sounding gimmicky or contrived. "Theology and Algebra"
follows, its title containing the only even semi-religious reference of the
entire album. "TransAtlantic Solo Flight" has nothing to do with Charles
Lindbergh, but in keeping with the aviation theme, it sounds halfway between
Jets to Brazil and Superchunk; sort of pretty but certainly nothing
extraordinary.
"Versatile Solutions For Modern Living" is a good point at which to begin
discussing the band's biggest problem-- namely, their singer. Context is
everything, right? Well, within the context of this sort of music, vocalist
Bill R. Power's singing sort of... um, sucks. His fragile, boyish, and often
uneven voice is completely at odds with the treble and tense dissonance of the
music. A deeper, more commanding and steadying voice would be much better
suited to the situation. Of course, there could very well be musical contexts
where Power's voice would seem more at home; unfortunately, there are just
scattered moments on this album where the singing solidifies rather than
undermines the potential established by the music. The other problem with the
singing is that the vocal melodies, with a few notable exceptions, are pretty
weak. "You Know Who You Are" alternates between moments of inspiration and
unbearable, disconcerting melodic segments that bring to mind a watered-down
Shudder to Think. But, as you know, there need only be one shitty element in
a song to sink the whole thing.
As far as the music, these guys do it better than most bands of this sort.
They've got the dueling guitar thing down, and the drumming, which, when not
truly great, is at least on. But when Power is front-and-center singing shit
like, "She hates Texas, she plays the drums/ She wants to run like Lola runs,"
it obviously doesn't score them any points.
So, it seems the equation is pretty stark: solid-to-great music +
mediocre-to-sorry vocals and melodies = pretty good for a Christian band.
In all fairness, though, these guys' faith and the religious bent of their
label shouldn't matter, either. If you don't find yourself put off by Power's
voice, and tend toward pretty guitar noise and drum-driven emo-ish stuff,
maybe you ought to check this out. And if you're a close-minded jerk, don't
sweat it; Blenderhead isn't breaking new ground.
-Camilo Arturo Leslie