I won't bullshit you, partly because my congested head is killing me, and partly because you deserve better: this is a commercial album. Massachusetts’ Cave In might have been an indie metal band-- with considerable muscle to back up their tunefulness and more riffs than Rush managed in the 90s-- but now, they’re hardcore. Which is to say they’re pop. Which is to say, if you can't stand melodies, stay clear of Antenna. While all of this might seem obvious since they’re on RCA, and their CD can only be played using “extended copy protection music player” (which they've helpfully included), but the real giveaway is the immediacy of the hooks, and the clean mega-compressed mastering. In short, if your favorite bands aren't played between Audioslave and Foo Fighters on modern rock radio, Cave In probably isn't one of them.

All of that said, Antenna is hardly a bad record. Almost every tune features a melody or riff practically guaranteed to stick in your head at least once after hearing it (or have you squirming to avoid it), and vocalist Steve Brodsky thankfully resists the omnipresent Cobain-cum-Vedder-cum-Cornell yelp of the tried and true “alternative” lead male. Brodsky's playing-- while not terribly distinct-- always injects the right amount of grunge-wallop or Edge-y atmospherics; in a way, Cave In remind me of a modern-day Blue Oyster Cult, in that their “heavy” music never really comes close to masking their considerable pop songwriting skill (Brodsky’s voice is also of a similarly nasal, tenor quality as BOC’s Donald “Buck Dharma” Roeser). So, if I haven't scared you away by comparing them to dinosaurs from the 70s-90s...

Opener “Stained Silver” wastes no time in dropping the radio riffs, by way of Radiohead’s “Pyramid Song” (they also reference the “Paranoid Android” breakdown on the next track, “Inspire”). "Silver"'s flailing beats quickly make room for the oft-harmonized verse vocal, doubled by guitar; it's important to note insofar as the doubling makes it easier to pick out the melody on a crappy car stereo, for people who might only hear you once, during the afternoon drive. Dispensing with my cynical, rockist commentary, the melody is worth remembering, and the mass of guitars during the chorus carry their share of muscular momentum. “Anchor” might be as easily dismissed: it's a squeaky clean Nirvana rip, but its energy is contagious, the chorus is pro-level catchy and the bridge really ties the room together. Typical of Antenna, it’s a well-written song given the major label sheen, which explains the props in mass-market alternarags like Spin. While my descriptions ring death-knells for a lot of Pitchfork readers, I can only reiterate that awkwardly ambitious intent doesn't necessarily equal sucking.

The bad news is to be expected: some of this stuff is too formulaic after a few plays. Except for two wildcards (the gentle acoustic ballad “Beautiful Son” and the lengthy cosmic jaunt “Seafrost”), you can generally count on the band adhering to verse-chorus-verse-bridge-chorus-repeat structure, replete with those hallowed LOUD-soft-LOUD dynamics. Brodsky’s voice is hardly grating, but just like BOC, I’m not sure Cave In features the world’s most interesting, nuanced singing, and again, I have to cast my vote against nu-rock’s maxed-out mix preferences, making every moment on the disc a peak, which effectively makes every moment part of a monolithic, dulling experience. Still, if there is a way to make decent radio rock outside of Thursday and Queens of the Stone Age, Cave In are doing it now.

-Dominique Leone, April 2nd, 2003