Bass Drum of Death’s record starts with a furious floor tom, opening the flood gates for an impressive, cocksure debut. Blurring the line between garage, noise pop and punk, GB City (out April 2 on Fat Possum Records) grabs you firmly by the collar and doesn’t let go for 32 minutes.
It may also blow smoke in your face.
Part surf rock slacker apathy (think Fat Possum labelmate Wavves), part DIY punk (the album was recorded on USB microphones), this Oxford, Miss. duo offer an intriguing array of scuzzy, reverbed melodies and catchy-ass tunes backed by rock-steady rhythms.
The album spits out its catchiest tunes up front. The first five songs are all veritable burners, featuring tightly wound riffs and huge truck-nut hooks. The title track rides into town on a vicious finger-picked riff tailor made for moshing.
Nearly all of the songs check in at three minutes or less with lyrics touching on the typical tropes — parties, getting laid, not caring — but also include enough originality to stave off disinterest. Like Elvis appearing in dreams on the riff-riding “Velvet Itch” and trying to lay the preacher’s daughter on album closer “Religious Girls”.
“Spare Room” and “Leaves” are two tracks that break the template a bit, downshifting in tempo and featuring scorching feedback. If these feel out of place initially, they successfully create some breathing room before launching into hotter cuts.
All told, it’s a solid soundtrack for smashing beers, a personal invite to celebrate the ignorance of your youth. Ain’t ignorance bliss?[audio:http://potholesinmyblog.flywheelsites.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/07-Young-Pros.mp3|titles=Bass Drum of Death – Young Pros]