Lesser (Known) Lights #2

We Are The Fury – Venus

Sometimes you come to a band in an unusual way. I’m a fan of the writer David Foster Wallace, whose 1996 novel “Infinite Jest” is one of those books which lots of people start but can’t finish. (It took awhile, but I made it to the end. Many have been helped in this task by the Infinite Summer challenge.) Browsing the Wikipedia entry for the novel, I learned about this band from Ohio that named an EP after it. The EP was great, so I of course checked out their only album, “Venus”, and was not disappointed. Rolling Stone called them an “Artist to Watch” in 2007, but the album either tanked hard or the band imploded because there was no follow up until they dropped a few singles in 2018/19. I saw it described somewhere as glam punk, and I think that’s spot on: there are echoes of bands like New York Dolls filtered through an emo sensibility with a hair metal band’s confidence and a garage band aesthetic, coming out on the other side with something that at times feels like The Strokes on Ritalin. They remind me very much of a band I already know, but that band’s name is just beyond the fingertips of my dwindling memory. There are certainly some rock star cliches here – yes, I’m pretty sure cowbell makes an appearance – but it’s done in a playful, we’re-in-on-the-joke kind of way. The record is frenetic, except for the obligatory power ballads, which are fine but don’t stand out like the bangers. Fave tracks include “Now You Know”, “Camera Tricks”, “Still Don’t Know Your Name”, “Saturday Night” and “You’re My Halo (Prom Song)”. A good listen from needle drop to the last howl: if you love Jet’s “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” (and who are these heathens who don’t?), this is an album for you.

Lesser (Known) Lights #1

Mike Viola – Lurch

It’s been barely six weeks since I first learned of the existence of Mike Viola, and two albums in I can certify actual fan hood. You’ve heard him already even if you didn’t know it: he was the voice of the lead singer of The Wonders in “That Thing You Do!”, including the Oscar-nominated #41 (I remain stunned that this glorious tune wasn’t even a top 40 hit) title track. I won’t judge his whole ouvre here – there are six more albums waiting for me on Spotify – but “Lurch” is a gloriously sunny pop record. He was pals with the late Adam Schesinger of Fountains of Wayne (who wrote “That Thing You Do!”), and sometimes plays in the same pool as FoW, with bouncy melodies and clever lyrical turns of phrase. He uses odd instruments at times – I swear there’s a glockenspiel on one track – but it is always in service of the song. I don’t think there’s a dud on this, but “The Strawberry Blonde” is a true standout, as are “So Much Better”, “When I Hold You In My Arms”, “You’re Alright But You Never Admit When You’re Wrong” and “Something Electric”. This is crisp, breath-stealing, should-be-on-the-soundtrack-to-an-indie-coming-of-age-love-story power pop, and a record that will end with you thinking of going back to the beginning to listen to the whole thing over again.

Girls Aloud – Tangled Up

I follow a fair number of Twitter accounts based in England, so things that trend in that country tend to be highlighted for me. Two weekends ago, Sarah Harding was trending, and since I had never heard of her, I clicked to see why. Sadly, she passed away from cancer at the horribly young age of 39. Learning why her death got so much attention sent me down a bit of a Wikipedia rabbit hole.

For non-Brits, the name Girls Aloud means, probably, nothing. In their native land, however, this five-member girl group, including Sarah Harding, were massive in the 2000s, with a run of uninterrupted top 10 hits from 2002 to 2009. They never charted on this side of the Atlantic, which, coming not long after the Spice Girls ruled the world, surprised me a bit. Since two of my sweet spots are “band I’ve never heard of” and “female-centred pop”, yeah, I was absolutely going to give this a listen. Their best-reviewed record was “Tangled Up”, so why waste time on the chaff when someone had already directed me to the spot at the table where the bread is waiting.

Maybe they just came along a bit too late for North America, but they were so, so much better than the Spice Girls, and deserved as much success, at least based on this record. The first listen through only a few tracks stood out, but when I gave it a spin while doing some cardio on my stationary bike, without any distractions beyond my legs swearing at me, I was able to get past the glossy production and sameness of the voices to hear a fantastic record. A lot of this has a sped-up ‘60s feel, as if Phil Spector found another gear in all the craziness that eventually took over his life, especially in the propulsive beat of “Black Jacks” and the breezily sexy “Can’t Speak French”. Other tunes that stand out are the electro ska of “Control of the Knife” and faux rocker distortion of “Fling”. “Call the Shots” is a techno dance track, and the record ends with the bouncily hypnotic “Crocodile Tears”. There is really no filler on this album – every track has something to offer.

I’ve listened to this a half dozen times over the past two weeks – it’s great in the car – and the record always leaves me feeling happy. Of course, Spotify is now trying to feed me, so I’ve heard a few of their other songs, with standouts being “Love Machine” and “The Promise”, which won a Brit Award the year it came out over such amateurs as Coldplay and Adele. “Girls Aloud World” doesn’t roll off the tongue like ”Spice World” did, but it’s a much better place to have working hearing.