Album Reviews • Monday May 11th, 2009 • 8:04 pm
Ahhhhhhh. Talk about refreshing. These days, “punk” is such a bastardized term that it holds about as much meaning as a Chrysler warranty – anyone who got pissed at bands like Blink-182 and Green Day grabbing the moniker back in the day clearly had no idea that bands like All-American Rejects and Fallout Boy were in store. And while Underneath the Owl isn’t going to send anyone blasting down memory lane to their first NOFX concert, it’s easily got twice the sack of the aforementioned eyeliner-darlings and isn’t afraid to tilt the scales of pop-punk squarely in favor of the latter to make for one distortion-soaked, sing-along good time at the Warped Tour second stage.
So, all you Bad Religion fanboys are surely skeptically wondering, how much “punk” are we talking here? The answer, honestly, is about as certain as in The Dark Knight, where the Joker tells Gordon that, “Well, depending on the time, he could be in one place or … several!” It’d be easy to assume that after the frantic wake-up-let’s-go, pedal-to-the-metal “DissDissKissKiss” that we’re in for a typical we-wish-we-were-Pennywise-but-we-still-want-to-sell-records schlock-fest (not that the Warped Tour crowd will have the slightest problem with that). But just like Matt Damon’s character in Rounders, the Gamblers are shrewd enough not to throw all their cards on the table in the first hand, and as enjoyable as this cut is, it makes the latter day-Mxpx swing of “A Choppy, Yet Sincere Apology” just as much a declaration that the Gamblers have more up their sleeve than power chords and volume as it is a plain old fun cut – and a great single choice.
And that’s the ace in hole with Underneath the Owl – the band is cagier than Bond’s last hand in Casino Royale, and every successive track shows the band throwing another curveball that’ll surely have punk purists furious and everyone else nodding along like it’s going out of style, and remarkably, the record’s flow never seems to suffer even with the tunes changing pace faster than you can spike a faux-hawk. After the opening 1-2 salvo flies by, the Gamblers launch into the Millencolin-homage “Catastrophe” and then dare to throw a screwball with “Alexandria” that splits the difference between their half-time lighter-wavers and the head-nodders with an endearingly reckless blast of pop-twinged punk that smacks of 2002-ish Ace Troubleshooter. The end result is the definition of a respectable record, with every song being solid enough to hold their own, but none that overshadow the rest or undercut the record by just existing for no reason. And speaking of mixing it up, it’d be remiss to exclude tunes as unique as the vibrophone-tinged “Robots May Break Your Heart” and “The Tearjerker,” which, if someone told you was an Oasis ballad re-recorded with a vocalist that didn’t sound like he was high and singing through his nose, you’d be hard-pressed to argue with.
And that’s what makes this album so simultaneously endearing and a tad bit frustrating. As long as it’s spinning, it’s great, but after the last feedback from “Victory Lap” fades out, it’s hard to remember a whole lot besides a few hooks from choice cuts like “Catastrophe” and “Alexandria.” At the end of the day, Riverboat Gamblers basically boil down to Luke Skywalker at the end of The Empire Strikes Back – they’ve clearly been honing their skills and know exactly what’s expected of them, but if they try and hang with genre stalwarts like their obvious influences in Millencolin, it’s obvious that they’ve got a few more X-Wings to raise out of the swamp before they can hang with their forefathers. That’s not to dismiss Underneath the Owl in the slightest – these guys have cranked out a solid record, nonetheless, and if they can crank everything to 11 on their Volcom sophomore disc, this band is more than capable of playing in the big leagues. Catch ‘em on tour with scene godfathers Rancid this summer, bring your Chucks, and enjoy for what it is.
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