As I’ve previously stated in other album reviews, I’m always a sucker for a straightforward rock-n-roll album. There are so many styles in the indie world that at times it’s refreshing to get an album that’s easy to grasp on first listen. Sub Pop has done an excellent job in this regard in 2009. Handsome Furs, Vetiver, and now Obits have all created albums that aren’t difficult to understand, but are entirely pleasing in tone and construction. Like a fistful of steel, I Blame You begins fully throttled and ends just as angrily. You’re not going to be scratching your head at its mystery, but then again, nobody ever said that was the goal.
Rick Froberg (Hot Snakes) and Sohrab Habibion (Edsel) envisioned Obits for exactly what it is on this Sub Pop debut, an amalgam of only the most delicious rock and roll influences and a fork to the ribs of indie-rock pretension. When the live demos of the supergroup began surfacing in late 2006, references to Creedence, among many others, were probably prematurely tagged. Upon repeat listens of I Blame You, pasting references isn’t an easy task because of the conventions at play. Surf, Motown, punk, and blues aren’t identifiably one band’s creation. Instead, what’s significant in reviewing is the vibe that’s created by sticking to things that work. This record is an ass-kicker, and it strives to be nothing but that.
A first major nod to this record is its consistency of sound. The guitar dueling barrage emerges quickly in the album’s opener, “Widow of My Dreams” and hits fast and hard for the duration. There is the easy mode of review to focus on the emphasis of straightforward power chords, but this is too simple. The guitar work is tightly compacted and well-arranged. Froberg and Habibion weave fills and string breaking strumming throughout. ”Fake Kinkade” incorporates a galloping rhythm in a true rock-n-roll vein, dating back to its bluesy ancestry. Stomping guitar fills and a great chorus tell us, once again, that this isn’t tricky. With Obits, you’re going to get a fastball down the pipe. They’re only asking you to swing away without baggage. Pitchfork’s recent review of the record was less than raving, and it proves, yet again, that some folks simply don’t get it. If an album strives to be a straight rock record and achieves it well, how can it get a knock of a review? I suppose this is what is immediately endearing about the album. They’re not attempting to break new ground stylistically; they are fusing things that work and doing it beautifully. It only takes one listen to “Talking to the Dog” with it’s punchy rhythm and belted out vocals to get a sense of this. It’s rock candy in its raw form; sometimes we need a little of this, and it’s dangerous to focus on emerging sounds with a deaf ear toward modes that have and will always work.
There is very little filler on the record, primarily because each track takes its own bite from the dinner plate. Many of the tracks, as previously mentioned, center around the hard power chords and bluesy guitar fills, but each have slight variations to set them apart. ”Lilies in the Street” has a country twang buried somewhere in the distortion and amp crushing loudness. The looping and repetitive bass lines are crisp and intense, dropping into a heartwarming hook and chorus. Greg Simpson’s bass work is omnipresent throughout the 42 minutes, as in “Two-Headed Coin” where the plucky bass strings set tone and remind us that this is a conglomeration of talented and established artists. Hand-shakers, pounding drums, and accessibly driven riffs are all over the place in “SUD,” where the album hits its peak and emotional vocals match up with the sound. The title track is a blistering 1:08 of instrumental foggy fuzz, and well worth the few bucks you’ll shell out today as the album is released.
I always find myself gravitating back to things that work. I can handle experimental music, electronic, singer/songwriter, and just about any genre put in front of me. However, when I think back to my upbringing, it’s the crunchy blues-based rock-n-roll that always catches my ear. I’m not one to pretentiously soap box and pretend that crickets chirping and a guy scratching his nails on a chalkboard is some new revelation in music. They can have it. I’ll keep plugging along enjoying music that hits my vicarious wish to live the sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll lifestyle. I Blame You is a fun blast of sound from artists who know what they’re doing and have proven it in the past. Let’s not get carried away with obnoxiously deaf ears to certifiably successful sounds and enjoy this one. I’ve already worn the edges searching for a weak spot. I’ve decided not to worry about it, and something tells me this is exactly the way I’m supposed to listen to this one.
Buy I Blame You today at Insound
