album review: howler, america give up
Howler‘s debut LP, America Give Up, has its roots firmly planted in the late 50s and early 60s – a time of surf rock and songs that sound like summer. Formed by 19 year-old lead-singer, Jordan Gatesmith, and hailing from Minneapolis, the five-piece band has crafted a noisy yet insanely melodic collection of tracks – 11 in all, but in the great tradition of punk rock, surf rock and those big black discs people used to listen to in the “olden days”, the LP is over in a miserly 32 minutes. The listener is left wanting more.
There is a confident swagger to Gatesmith’s vocals. A confidence capable of making a believer out of the listener on just the first listen. A confidence no 19 year old working on a major-label debut album has any right to posses. It’s endearing.
The opening two tracks are all hand claps, jangly lead guitar and rough vocals, setting the template for the album. Catchy pop hooks abound, built around messy, multi-tracked guitars, reverb-laden vocals and “woooo oooo’s” sung with abandon. It’s this mixture of pop, punk and 60s cliche which makes the album work – the band is wearing its inspirations on its collective sleeve, but it doesn’t give a fuck. It’s rock and roll after all.
The subtle use of Max Petrek’s keyboards (which unfortunately is lost in the mix on most of the album) on ‘Pythagorean Fearem’ gives the track a theatrical edge, whilst on ‘Black Lagoon’ Gatesmith’s lead guitar intertwines effortlessly and in total harmony with France Camp’s bass. Brent Mayes’ drumming and Ian Nygaard’s rhythm guitar work are sound throughout, the latter at times extracting some vintage 50’s and 60’s textures out of his instrument.
‘Wailing (Making Out)’, featuring the line “I want a girl and a new car / I need a drink and a guitar” is indicative of the lyrical tone of the album – don’t expect any grand political statements from it, despite the LP’s title and the band’s punk leanings. Album highlight ‘Too Much Blood’ oozes My Bloody Valentine-esque shoe-gaze, with a delicious use of reverb that makes the track sound like it was recorded in an empty cathedral, while ‘Free Drunk’ shows that Howler can simultaneously do gorgeous and loud.
One needs to constantly be reminded that the band members are so young. As their songwriting craft develops, they will realise that they won’t need to over-rely on hand claps and “woooo oooo’s” to fill empty aural space in the mix. Despite this, the album’s brevity means that its welcome is never outstayed.
A mix that leaves little room for the listener to breathe is perhaps the album’s biggest issue. There is no let up from the wall of sound until track 8 (‘Told You Once’). Less a compositional issue, more one concerning the album’s production, it will be interesting to see if the band’s sound develops on subsequent releases.
True, the members of Howler sound like music geeks who have spent altogether too much time studying their parents’ record collections, but there is an earnestness on this album that forces the listener to not immediately dismiss it as entirely derivative – they’re kids making rock’n’roll, and I don’t think they care whether you like it or not.
