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The Faults Lynn Point Records LP0003 |
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Oh, they take a couple of tunes off to strum the acoustic guitars and tone it down a bit, but almost as an afterthought or a side dish to the main course. They even lay on a swinging bit of good time power pop transposed over honky tonk lyrics on 'Whispering Goodbye,' a very radio friendly tune. But on most of the tracks, they just crank up the volume, kick in the reverb, tell the civilians to stand clear, and let it rip. And twanging is pretty much off limits. Considering that former band mate A. Scott Miller is also in the process of releasing a rock record, it seems clear that these guys were tired of the restrictions that their former record label imposed in requiring them to play the alt-country game. Produced by Superdrag drummer Don Coffey, the sound is big, bright and clear with lots of bottom end support for the twin guitars of Harrison and lead guitarist Robbie Trosper. Both Harrison and Trosper can play, and they play well off each other. Sellers and Bills handle the rhythm section like guys who have toiled together for years which they have. The album benefits from the willingness and musical ability to combine disparate elements, like on 'Let The Angel Lie' with its metallic guitar licks and its poppy harmonies. Classification-wise, the record is part power pop, part dirty old blow-their-hair-back club rock. There is often an 80's rock aesthetic at work. But even with the notable absence of alt-country twang (and the previous production strictures of the Twang Trust), V-Roys fans will be happy to note that there are lots of familiar sounds on this fine record. Songs like 'Lonely Place' and 'Lazy Eyes' could have slipped onto any V-Roys record. Like much of Mic Harrison's earlier songwriting on his solo effort "Don't Bail" and in his V-Roy compositions, these tracks are full of women in bad relationships and psychologically borderline hombres in emotional quicksand. Mr. Harrison, who wrote all the songs, is not from the "sing a happy song" school of songwriting. There is a motherload of doubt, anger, suspicion, emotional neglect and regret, but Harrison's delivery is such that there is no woe-is-me feel to the material. Whose fault the problem is isn't even an issue. It's the misery quotient that matters. The opening track, 'Dishonest Jenny,' sets the rocking tone for the record. Jenny is one half of a bad relationship (the other half being whomever she is in a relationship with), one of those soap opera character women who, after being burned and mentally bruised by her often enough, a fellow ought to know to leave alone. But she keeps showing up like a bad penny. A lack of commitment on her part is more than implied. It took about a decade to figure out what she was doing
wrong This album is strewn with fine examples of what rock songs should be. 'Big Show,' with its AC/DC rhythm and its more-than-one-level lyrics, and 'Watertown,' with its ominous vocal, Southern hard rock changes, and rip-the-strings-off attitude, are classic gut-level rockers, the kind of tracks that make you want to roll the windows down, drive fast, and play drums on the steering wheel (I'm too old to "live fast, love hard and die young," or I would've said that!). On 'Wake Up', lead guitarist Trosper's rough edged intro works in counterpoint to the Elvis Costello vocal vibe and a dramatic but rocking arrangement that follows. The track is favorably comparable to the most incendiary V-Roys' tunes. 'Ready To Go' is another that falls into this category of hard rockers. All the band members get to demonstrate the strength of their playing, and the simple but effective background harmonies are the kind you can't help but sing along with. Nor can you get them out of your head. Trosper's guitar gets plumb nasty on this track. Both of these tunes should be getting some radio airplay, but without a video on MTV or major label promotion, that probably won't happen. The band's one nod to twangy alt-country is the quiet, plaintive
'Poison Land,' one of those my-old-friends-are-bad-for-me songs.
Much like some of the material on his earlier "Don't Bail" album,
the presentation is simple, straightforward and primarily acoustic,
the pace is unhurried, and the "everybody join in" chorus is just
loose and boozy enough. If you've ever thought about why you keep
going back to the place and the people you left, what the
entanglement is and why you can't break it, this one will still be
tracking in your head when you lay down at night. While this is a fine first CD by a very experience and battle-hardened group of musicians, I wouldn't be surprised if, after they've toured for a while with new drummer Jason Peters and had time to digest the effect, acceptance and success of this first album, The Faults don't bend even more toward the hard rocking side of their personality, because the hardest rocking songs are where The Faults really shine. While the band certainly has the ability to tread softly with sensitive singer-songwriter tunes and arrangements or to put out an entire album of top quality alt-country, I won't be surprised if the next Faults record is a rocking blast furnace. Meanwhile, this is one new band I'm ready to see on small club stage on a hot South Texas Friday night. Let's rock. *Order "The Faults" direct from www.lynnpoint.com They get to
keep more of the money that way. And they are nicer folks than Mr.
Amazondotcom and Ms. CDNow.
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After twanging away in Knoxville's
most visible band of the last half of the '90s, former V-Roys Mic
Harrison, Paxton Sellers and Jeff Bills have thrown off the dark
suits and the monogrammed ties and are back in their jeans and
T-shirts, ready to turn it up, knock some walls down, and give a nod
to influences like rockers Cheap Trick, AC/DC and Texas
psychedelic pioneer, Roky Erickson. Their new record on Bills and
Harrison's Lynn Point Records label is simply titled "The Faults"
and it is full of hard, no-frills but polished heartland rock.
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