Buffalo Tom
Big Red Letter Day

THE REVIEW

Anyone who had the chance to catch a glimpse and/or audio-follow the Buffalo Tom sound-path from their first, bubbling, eponymous debut released under the historic SST label (one of the most intriguing acoustic forges of the "non-conforming" rock of the late eighties), upon the release of the described "Big Red Letter Day" and/or its predecessor "Let Me Come Over", perceived the steady accomplishment of an artistic parabola in a fully positive ascending phase.

This concise, confidential, red missive left to posterity now in the last century (1993) by the Bostonian trio contains within itself a passionate and vital rock-guitaristic substance combined with a integral, never banal, vocal melodious/interpretative inclination; Bill Yanovitz and his two truly inseparable friends/adventure companions practically demonstrated, should there be a need, that the ultra-classic/overused rock triad of guitar+bass and drums, if adequately supported by ingenuity and intelligence (of course), can (and always should) offer ample and rich audio-satisfactions. The three astute rockers in question, far from being musically un/Buffaloed, were improperly and forcibly compared (damn labels...) to peers from the semi-same chronological-expressive context (Dinosaur Jr, Husker Du etc.): commendable works like this sequentially fourth one, on the other hand, demonstrate an evident emanation of brilliant and (dazzling) light of their own. While not radically and completely revolutionizing/innovating any already known rock-tenet, they often paralleled, if not occasionally surpassed, with substantial class and positive expressed peculiarities, their presumable inspirers: a performing corpus composed of a solid backbone episodically still characterized by the sharp tones of the beginnings (indie-post-punk), wisely moderated to abundant and melodious, never cloying, vocal embellishments, the result also of the commendable alternating mic work of the two voices.

In all probability, "Big Red Letter Day" does not fully represent the creative apex of the three young men from Massachusetts, but it "simply" (and jealously) preserves within itself some of the most intriguing (intriguing + pleasant) and successful songs of the not so copious Buffalo-discography: "Tree House" with its crystalline vocal intertwining over a vibrant rhythmic base, the intense "Would Not Be Denied", or "I'm allowed", a caressing, multifaceted yet raw gem, leave genuinely satisfied by their astute and solid rock-grace, immense confidential pathos, and harmonic development; the entire work, composed of eleven tracks for just over forty minutes in total duration, repeatedly delivers abundant and intense fragments of rock-vertiginous quality.

Almost relegated to the sound-forgotten drawer, despite (in truth, not all of the same qualitative caliber) six studio albums drafted over about a decade (outtakes & b-sides not included), one objectively encounters one of the many yet glaring and unjust musical/oversights (let's put it this way...) of the fervent, though all too often sterile, under and overground confederate rock scene pertaining to the last decade of the previous millennium.