Elliott Smith
likely cringed to remember that before his all-too-precious reinvention of himself he was trying to rock out in a
Fugazi
/
Helmet
vein. That's not because the results were bad, though -- if derivative,
Dead Air
is still a mighty fine debut album, though arguably more credit goes to the band's true creative touchstone, fellow singer/guitarist
Neil Gust
. Openly gay but not making it his creative raison d'etre like, say,
Pansy Division
,
Gust
and company tear things up with full-on energy, while the co-production on the part of the band and Portland legend
Thee Slayer Hippy
is crisp and focused. There's a perhaps inevitable casting of
grunge
over everything given its 1993 genesis, but instead of sprawl the emphasis is on tautness, vocals rough but not whined, more
Huesker Due
and
Mission of Burma
, say, than
Black Sabbath
or
Black Flag
.
's knack for anthemic, empowering choruses infused with open emotional passion makes the
comparison in particular appropriate, almost as if on his own he's fused
Ian MacKaye
Guy Picciotto
in one body. At one point, on the wonderful
"Can't Be Touched,"
he even sounds like an aggro
Michael Stipe
. The songs don't waste time -- 14 in 37 minutes -- and steer away from easy singalong approaches in favor of slightly more complex headbanging with a brain and heart.
"Stray,"
re-recorded from an earlier single, sounds fantastic, just brawling with both fierce energy and close-to-the heart empathy, not to mention a great chorus.
"Bottle Rocket"
is a definite winner, with some great call-and-response vocal work and a steadily building verse-into-chorus structure that's fierce without falling prey to incipient
emo
cliches. Every so often there's some great flash on the guitars -- check out the solo on
"Dirt"
-- while the rhythm section does well enough (drummer
Tony Lash
in particular). ~ Ned Raggett