Rye Coalition
On Top
[Tiger Style; 2002]
Rating: 8.2
I'm not going to lie to you, kids, and I want you to know that. I
care about you. (Well, most of you.) So I'll be honest. Rock isn't
always pretty, but sometimes that's just the way it's gotta be.
Believe me, then, when I say that Rye Coalition's new album, On
Top, is downright ugly, but rocks like it's about to go out of
style. So all of you who just want another pretty face can stick to
the safety of The Strokes and Weezer. In the meantime, Rye Coalition
is gonna be busy defining arena-ready indie rock without any pretty-boy
theatrics, so get out of the way or be crushed underfoot.
On Top is so relentlessly energetic that from the moment Rye
Coalition begins to stomp and bruise their way through the album, no
one stands a chance. Once they get moving, all you can do is be
dragged through the mud behind them. By the time the album ends,
you're filthy, the wind has been knocked out of you and your organs
hurt from the impact, but, like Loverboy, you've loved every minute
of it. The only 'break' to be found is on the bluesy "Freshly
Frankness," which wouldn't exactly sound out of place on White
Blood Cells-- if, uh, Jack White took steroids.
But before I forget, the lyrics suck big time. If they're tongue-in-cheek,
Ralph Cuseglio's delivery is too straight-faced to let on. Don't worry
too much, though, since lyrics only matter if you can understand them--
which in this case you can't. (Just don't open the liners and you'll
be fine.) Cuseglio spits and froths his way through every song with
such manic adrenaline that he must be hooked to some kind of goddamn
rock and roll I.V. And for their part, the rest of the band matches
him, with jagged guitar lines dominating and kicking like a gas-powered
mule (you heard me). On the rare occasions when Justin Morrey's bass
is able to bust through the mix, I can hear Shellac-- and I probably
don't need to tell you, but that's a good thing.
Now, this is a pretty straightforward album, so the possibilities do
exhaust themselves somewhat by the end; there's only so much that can
be done with this sort of visceral, no-frills rock. But just as doubts
regarding this album's staying power creep in, the showpiece closer,
"Honky, Please," shatters them Conan-style. The track is immediately
set apart by the awkward opening sounds of seagulls and a garbage truck
in reverse gear, before it launches into a menacing guitar riff. The
instrumentation builds, collapses under its own weight, then resurges
with such a massively gut-wrenching crescendo that nothing can follow it.
So nothing does.
Rye Coalition may not be what anyone had in mind when rock and roll
was developed, but that's only because they weren't thinking hard
enough. Did I mention the record was engineered by Steve Albini?
If you don't take my word for it, at least trust Steve not to steer
you wrong. Steve says, "On Top is a juggernaut of an album."
Believe it, kids.
-Eric Carr, May 8th, 2002