From Across The Fruited Plain

Bombadier Recording Co.

B

Pretentious nom du rock aside, Anthemic Pop Wonder (the alter ego of New York DIYer Dfactor, who by day goes by David Murrow) certainly doesn’t lack confidence or lo-fi sagacity. APW wears its influences proudly on its sleeve – its debut full-lengther Cool Cocktails almost suffers from an overdose of Robert Pollard (if there is such a thing). Much of this album’s allure lies in its AM radio texture, which makes it all the more fun – there’s not a whole lot of low-end here. Pop with a trace of punk is the standard on this record, from the infectious opener "Been Stealin’" through the equally catchy "A Coattail From Which To Hang" and "Kissed A Blue Man". There’s even a credible medley of the Beatles’ "Anytime At All" and GbV’s "Game of Pricks" (upon seeing the track listing for this record, I prayed that his version of "Pricks" wouldn’t make me cringe in my seat, and it doesn’t).

Although Dfactor’s vocals never rise above workmanlike – in fact, they start to grate around the middle of the record (especially on the otherwise forgettable "Burned Beyond Recognition" and "My Little Valentine") – his sense of pop overrides any apparent deficiencies. This is a fun rock record.

Bombadier/Blank Stare/Some Guy Down The Street

C

This CD is impressive simply in how it was made: eight subscribers to Postal Blowfish, Guided by Voices’ online discussion group, all in different cities, sent out taped song ideas to each other for interpretation and embellishment. The tapes were then mailed back and forth until the songs were completed. Most of the members of Faux Republic have never met face to face. Pretty nifty. Having no real prior knowledge of the individual musicians’ output (save for Dave Murrow of Anthemic Pop Wonder) and Eric O’Connor of Magnetic Health Factory, whose CDs are also reviewed in this issue), it’s hard to comment on anyone’s individual contributions, but you get the sense that everyone involved was on the same wavelength. The rough ideas in the 14 tracks seem to be better realized by the process, rather than trod upon.

That said, is the music enjoyable? Being a fan of lo-fi and four-track experimentation, I have a reasonably high tolerance for the melange of barely tuned guitars, halting drumbeats, unexpected splatters of keyboard, and enigmatic structures displayed here.

Several tracks are particularly satisfying: the slow, nervous build of "I’ve Seen That Look Before", the sax-infused melancholy of "Flattened Flora", the pummeling riff-bounce of "Tell Us About ‘Stone Free!’", and "Chewing On A Flaming Log"’s spirited, album-closing rockout all hit the mark. A great, chirpy mini-organ motif anchors the long, impassioned "Life’s Labyrinth", which emerges as the best cut after a few listens.

On the other hand, Faux Republic contains its fair share of strangulated vocals and formless noodling ("Pray To Be People 3 4"), the sort of thing that’s plagued indie records for a decade and should never have made it out of the bedroom. Part of the problem here may be the same thing that drew this group together: Guided by Voices. The goal here seems to be to ape the dense, challenging racket of GbV circa Vampire On Titus. The Faux Republic vocalists even sound the most confident when they’re doing their best Pollard or Sprout impersonation and singing lyrics in the imagist spew that those men have perfected. I’m all for taking GbV as an inspiration, but one must remember that it’s tough to make that sort of stuff stick without a visionary songwriter in the midst. To the listener, it’s far too tempting to compare Faux Republic to GbV, which is really unfair.

--Lane Hewitt