•
Rating:
Pana approached music about four years ago. Obviously, I'm not privileged, and I'm still working my way up, and I went through the phase of listening to the usual super famous supergroups, convinced that nothing in the world was better. I was in a Facebook group of fools like me, where we shared the foolish music that I liked. One fine day, some user posted a video that was neither AC/DC nor Guns 'n Roses, and I immediately realized it was something out of the ordinary. This person wanted to alert us to a great threat looming over all humanity: a band had dared to write a song called "I Hate Led Zeppelin." The most musically knowledgeable guy warned us that "it was a good band," "it's common for punks to disparage the big guys," and similar things, but of course, he was ignored.
This is all to say that some time ago, with a different preparation, which still remains far from being complete, these Screeching Weasel came to my mind with force. So I procured Boogadaboogadaboogada and this "My Brain Hurts." For those who don't know, Screeching Weasel makes consciously melodic punk tinged with hardcore and spiced with a lot of ignorance. The two records struck me from the get-go, and thanks to their digestibility, I listened to them excessively.
My Brain Hurts is concise (only the final title track exceeds three minutes) and highly inspired. Even the most catchy songs don't lose their punch (following the eminent example of the Ramones) and in some, these elements combine with masterful balance (Veronica Hates Me, Science of Myth) molding true masterpieces of the genre. Some tracks come too close to the Forest Hills group (Cindy's On Methadone, Why Don't You Go Away), resulting in less originality but still respectable, while some (like the opening Making You Cry) musically refer to more mature hardcore. The band's mastery, combined with its grace, allows them to excellently characterize every track, which are occasionally garnished with piano notes (delightfully silly in Teenage Freakshow), hand claps, or unusual onomatopoeias, and despite their brevity, they know how to evolve, giving them that unpredictability and recognizability that can be a bit of a weak point in certain punk (here some purist might kill me, but consider that I don't live off this genre). In some tracks, they even try the path of somewhat engaged lyrics (The spirituality/science conflict in Science of Myth, undoubtedly the masterpiece of the album) with results that are not spectacular but at least respectable. It's impossible to mention a track where the vocal approach isn't excellent. Graphically speaking, I find the cover splendid.
An album that I cannot help but highlight and recommend, with many tracks that I find beautiful, and the others still good. And I apologize if I don’t speak as an expert of the genre (I already see Pinhead, dressed as an executioner, ready to dismiss me) and if consequently, my analysis might present some monstrosity. In the meantime, I’m throwing this review out here, then maybe someone will describe it in more fitting terms...
After all, one can love Guernica without being an art critic.
Loading comments slowly
