Between the Never and the Now
Vendetta Red
Epic Records

Zach Davidson, the lead singer of Vendetta Red, one of the most important bands no one has yet to hear of, is a poseur—in a good way.

Whereas most poseurs pretend to be something other than what they are in order to become cool, or as the kids say, hip, Davidson does quite the opposite: He pretends to be a loser, when he is so clearly anything but.

“Nevermind me, I am just a moron is disguise, posing as a poet with the incandescent eyes,” Davidson confesses on the first line of “Opiate Summer,” one of the best tracks off the band’s new Epic Records album, Between the Never and the Now.

But despite his urging otherwise, Vendetta Red, Davidson in particular, is very difficult to ignore. Davidson is very much the poet he claims not to be and his lyrics throughout the record are searching and clever, each one infused with acerbic wit and a subtly rounded edge of heartbreak.

The band’s first single, “Shatterday,” has been on heavy rotation on MTV2 and the band has received praise for its live prowess and intensity.

While singles may not be the best indicator of any band’s worth, “Shatterday” may well be the exception, as the song is both catchy and intelligent, an anthem for the disillusioned. The song will neither find home in the hearts of those who just don’t get it, nor insult true fans with another teen poppy punk charade.

The band’s bio reads not much different from any other Seattle up and-comer’s: 1998, formed band; 1999 recorded first EP; 2000, recorded first album; 2001, recorded second album 2002, toured a bunch, signed with Epic, recorded and released big album to rock the world, or at least those willing to listen.

Well, maybe a little different, maybe a little faster.

It is difficult to determine what has made Vendetta Red’s rise so linear, but it is myopic to be surprised. Indeed, there are many bands of worth whose music never sees the light of a CD player, but Vendetta Red’s first major album has the makings of something great.

It has that certain undefinable, that certain something.

Is it the well-constructed song hooks which always bring the listeners back?

Could it be the layered guitar riffs, all touched, but not altered by the talented production hands of Larry Flynn (Weezer, Blink-182, Green Day, etc…) Or is it the way that Davidson screams in tune better than anyone who is not currently a member of A Static Lullaby? Or is it the way the CD gets better every time you hear it?

Well, yeah, actually. That might just be it.—EG

Antenna
Cave-In
RCA

There’s something vaguely boring about the music of Cave-In, the “Indie Metal” band recently signed to RCA. For this reason, I’d say that when allmusic.com compares the band to The Foo Fighters, which Cave-In toured with in Europe, the description is pretty apt.

And I don’t mean the possible heir to the Nirvana crown that The Foo Fighters might have been when it released its self-titled first album in 1995, but the Foo Fighters of 1997, when The Colour and the Shape was released and the band found its niche within the evil corporate mainstream market. Not the driving rock of “This is a Call” or the silly fun of “Big Me,” this is just 12 tracks where 10 of them sound vaguely like “Monkey Wrench.”

It’s too easy to draw comparisons with Cave-In, because there are a good many bands these days that sound just like them. At least those bands, unlike Cave-In, were able to avoid the god-awful crooning of that guy from Creed or that guy from Puddle of Mudd, who are both just trying to sound like that guy from Pearl Jam.

And speaking of comparisons, the riff on the appropriately titled “Inspire” has been called out by more than one review as “that riff from Paranoid Android.”

The only songs that were able to hold my interest were the two that start with “Beautiful Son,” which pops in halfway through the album—and I have a sneaking suspicion I only like it because it reminds me of “Sunday Sun” by Beck. That song melts into “Seafrost,” which I am convinced should have been called “The Nine-Minute ‘Indie’ Song.” However, the fact that this song sticks out like a sore thumb amidst an otherwise mediocre song collection at least deserves some recognition.

The thumping and tumbling drums (John-Robert Conners) and bass (Caleb Sofield) and the somewhat sonic guitar picking (Adam McGrath) blend nicely with Stephen Brodsky’s stormy vocals (“I’m freeeee-zing”). So, basically, in an hour-long album, only 13 minutes are memorable. The rest, I’m sure, will come to a radio station or a Wal-Mart near you.—JS

Transform
Powerman 5000
Dreamworks

I could write a whole new article about why Spider One (the force of nature behind Powerman 5000 and its new album Transform) should stay the fuck away from politics and just focus on music. When rock musicians become political orators, it’s pretty easy to kill their message and dissect it to show the rock star telling you to kill rock stars for what he is.

“Check out all the rock stars/ Come on watch them suffer/ So very sad and I hope you agree…/ Not enough attention/ Oh and did I mention/ Life is tough Mr. Platinum CD”

If Spider wants to sing about revolution, that’s fine. But it’s kind of hard to look like any kind of revolutionary when you work for one of the biggest music corporations on the planet (Dreamworks). It would be nice, too, if Spider gave us any kind of notion of what kind of revolution he’s talking about. Other than telling us all to read H.G. Wells and be bored (redundant? Just kidding), he doesn’t give anything more than vague notions that “they” want to control you.

It’s like Fight Club without the subst—no, actually, it’s like Fight Club.

I could write a whole new article, but I won’t.

So, music-wise, this is pretty standard pop-metal fare. Nothing too exciting or catchy, except for the album’s title track and maybe “Hey, That’s Right!”

Like all of Powerman 5000’s albums, this one is littered with cool electronic sound effects and random sci-fi (I’m assuming) movie quotes. Unless he’s screaming, which is often, Spider sounds really, really bored in his vocals. Almost as bored as in his lyrics—and his one-page liner note manifesto—make him sound. The only time the music itself gets interesting is when PM5K experiments for about nine seconds with electronic and guitar sounds on certain songs (the first 16 seconds of “Stereotype” are actually exciting!) before the band reverts back to power-chords and MTV-friendly verse-chorus-verse patterns.

The CD also contains two videos, “Free” and “Action,” that you can watch by playing the CD on your computer, but both videos are virtually the same video. The band play-synches and thrashes about while Spider writhes and scream-synches at the camera, even giving the audience the bird at one point in “Action” (très révolutionner!). The finger is happily covered up by a squiggly black and white happy face (très tragique). The only thing that changes between the two videos is the stage and background the band pretends to play in front of. I’m not even sure the songs are different.

PM5K has the potential to be a creative and unique voice in popular music today. The band members just need to try to wow people with their music instead of their political aspirations, or at least know a thing or two about politics first. This band needs to…Transform.—JS

Punk Debutante
Cooler Kids
Dreamworks

When I first started writing this review, I was all set to give Cooler Kids no ears and write them off as “representing everything that is wrong with music today.” The first track on the band’s album Punk Debutante (and rest assured, Cooler Kids are so punk they make Avril Lavigne look like Jello Biafra) is entitled “All Around the World (Punk Debutante)” The song is featured on the Lizzy Maguire Movie, which automatically makes the members of Cooler Kids candidates for levels 4 through 7 of Hell.

Cooler Kids consists of a very cute girl (Sisely Treasure) and a very cute boy (Kaz Gamble, aka DJ Kazmir) who look, dress and act so goddamn cute I want to slap them both in the face…hard. The boy and girl duo met, of all places, on AOL’s member directory. Their press sheet lists the brands of clothing and makeup they wear and who does their hair and makeup.

Make no mistake, these two have been groomed for success. Slamming them would be easy, as you can see—if I wasn’t finally able to get where they were coming from.

The kids make sugary sweet dance music, “’80’s disco” as they call it in their press sheet. You can’t take too seriously any music that contains lyrics like “You gotta break up, to make up/ Sha la la la la/ Sha la la la la/ I wanna wake up next 2 u.” It’s the kind of music that plays on a certain dance and/or revolution-based video game on the first floor of the Union.

These two cooler kids play the music that drunk indie girls will play on their stereo at two in the morning and do their best to dance to it. This puts Cooler Kids in the same category as such bands as Air Supply, Hall and Oates and Steely Dan. In other words, not my kind of music. But it’s certainly music that is appropriate for the kind of situation the music was made for two words: dance party.

However, that still doesn’t forgive Cooler Kids for its really, really lousy opening track or the cute kids’ seemingly insatiable need to distort and robotify Sisely’s voice on certain tracks. There’s really no need for the robot voice in any song at any time. Despite this, the Cooler Kids will always be cooler than you. Their music is worth a couple of spins on your stereo. Unless, of course, you’re sober.—JS

Serart
Serart
Columbia Records

Two unlikely collaborators of Armenian descent have made an enticing album which combines the music of nearly every culture in the world with the unique qualities of lead singer Serj Tankian’s voice. The music of Serart is a palette of different tempos and tones.
Some songs make you want to get up and dance quickly (“Save the Blonde,” the 50-second “Zumba” and the minute-long “If You Can Catch Me”), while others just make you want to look out into the darkness of a window at night (“Black Melon” and “Love is the Peace.”)

Serart’s name is derived from the two musicians who make up the duo. First, there is Serj Tankian, better known as the lead singer of the rock band System of a Down. Second, there is Arto Tunc Boyaciyan (tunk-boy-a jian), better known as an obscure avant garde multi-instrumentalist “folk artist” from a small town near Constantinople, Turkey.

The music can sway and crash (“Devil’s Wedding” which, if I didn’t know better, I would swear was a b-side from the just-as-avant garde-as-that-Arto-guy Japanese rock giants The Boredoms) or pick your pocket as you walk down the street in the middle of the night (“Gee-tar”).

The album loses a whole ear because, to be honest, Tankian kind of bugs me. And the problem I have with Serart is the same problem I have with System of a Down. Tankian has a nasty habit of making me snicker, cringe or just roll my eyes at his lyrics and the way he sings them.

He almost ruins the song “Black Melon” by whisper-moaning the lines “No rest for the psychedelic knight (night??)/ Weaving hands/ Caressing the sky-y-y y-y-y/ [long pause] Death has its own smell”…Right.

To completely misquote Spinal Tap, there’s a fine line between poetry and pretentiousness. However, despite Serj’s need to creep me out sometimes, he and Arto have made a solid and eclectic album.

The album also comes with a DVD about Serart that I wasn’t able to play on my computer. Maybe it will work on yours.—JS

jordan@red-mag.com
eryn@red-mag.com