The Hi Fevers
High Fever

THE REVIEW

Perhaps you didn't know yet, but our Supercheri plays in a band, the Hi Fevers. They are the typical power-trio (and this is already good news, since 3 is the perfect number almost everywhere, in music and in sports, as well as in love): she is the boss, as far as I understand, since she sings and plays the guitar. In the rhythm section, two guys: bassist Mic Roma and drummer Alex.

Last March they recorded this beautiful EP of straightforward rock music without frills. Pure garage, few chords and lots of grit. My impression is that the Hifevers are well aware of the impossibility of making radically innovative music in 2007, having at their disposal the usual instruments and the usual patterns that pure rock, in all its classic or modern incarnations, has consolidated over half a century. And so, in the third millennium, the difference is made by character, personality, and the ability to fit into one or more traditions, revitalizing them from within, avoiding the sordid and mechanical repetition of a glorious past, as well as that widespread attitude of emulating one's idols, servilely lying at the feet of their dictates. Thus, we have a thousand mediocre epigones of the Fugazi, the Nirvana, the Bad Religion, the Velvet Underground, the Cure, and so on... all trying, unable to recover the substance (i.e., the content, the meaning, the message, the raison d'être, the "something to say"), to reproduce as faithfully as possible only the form, the appearance, the attire that dressed the invectives, laments, and confessions of the aforementioned groups.

None of this is present in the Pavia-based Hi Fevers, who pay homage to 20 years of alternative rock in a sincere and passionate way, far from gratuitous citation and affected calligraphy. Thus, the syncopations of "High Fever" vigorously resurrect Jane's Addiction and Mudhoney, while the indolent stoner of "Leech" is a lava flow that petrifies anyone who is overwhelmed by it. A couple of chords are enough, the dirtiest sound possible, no long guitar solos (what's the use in this context?). The most compelling moment is probably "Drive My Dreams", strong with Supercheri's beautiful vocal setup, while her guitar tirelessly grinds chord upon chord and an irresistible bass groove does the rest. The imagery is one of the most desert-like, Arizona to be precise, not too far from the West Coast evoked by the two raucous surf raids, the swampy "Michael Knight" and especially "Assassins", where enthusiasm prevails over technical precision. The album is completed by the catchy "Girl Plus", with our heroine once again spitting out her tonsils.

This summer, the Hi Fevers will set out to conquer Bochum and the Netherlands, in the land of techno: will the tulips manage to set aside sampling and electronic drums for a moment, to get closer again to good old rock? I hope so, and I honestly believe that humble provincial bands like this one can help rediscover the pleasure of the little things, the everyday ones that never tire.