Louisville, Kentucky's Wax Fang
are a dynamic, exuberant bunch, and they fit these ten songs with a
dramatic enthusiasm that leaves me wondering why I'm not more hooked
than I am. I'm sure I won't be the only one commenting on lead
singer Scott Carney's Broadway-esque vocals, all grandiose
and expressive, nor their seamless compatibility with the band's
boppy, excited instrumentation. But the songwriting's animated
showiness is sort of a double-edged sword. On one hand, most of
these songs are intense, busy bundles of high-wire energy. Which is
good, particularly if you're in the mood. On the other hand, the
melodies – overt, major-key creations – are somehow generic, seeming
already-too-familiar right off the bat, meaning few individual songs
really snag you by the collar and force you in.
It's a frustrating aspect to La La
Land, but don't interpret it as overwhelmingly damning. Because,
first of all, it isn't universally true. Consider “Cannibal Summer,”
a delectable lump of pop that sees Wax Fang do what they do best:
merge bright melody with evocative lyrics inflected with a healthy
dose of black humour. It begins with a minute-long fragment of
Quasi-esque sweetness before raging ahead into a riveting rock
song replete with juicy power chords, cymbal-heavy, percussive
squalor, and some good ol' shredding. Throw in grimly portentous
lyrics like “What a terrible evening/It's been a cannibal
summer/Everybody's eating themselves up/Over nothing” and you've got
yourself a winner. Elsewhere, epic closer “Wake Up, Sleepyhead!”
rides by in an impeccable clamour of sweltering guitars,
call-to-arms vocals, and rhythmic intensity – it's a pure feel-good
journey which ranks as this record's indubitably best moment.
Yet, other songs maintain the
blistering tempo but lack the impeccable hooks – “Can You See the
Light?” is good and zippy but low on repeat value, and while
“Majestic” boasts a gnarly rock opera aesthetic, it's also a somehow
unsatisfying hum. These tracks are riveting creations to behold –
performed live, they must make for quite the exhibition – but it's
their blistering climaxes which seem to imperil the band's sound.
The guitars get turned up, and Carney is forced into the upper
boundaries of his register; in the end, the vocal melodies often
lack potency. Fortunately, a lot of the time, as on raging “World
War II (Pt. 2),” the songs' wily exuberance masks the deficits in
pop hookery.
Hence, this turns
out to be a strong but somewhat imperfect
sophomore album from this enthusiastic lot. I'm curious to
find out whether their next effort will supply the sorts of
cataclysmic hooks the band's kinetic compositions deserve, because
those moments on La La Land which achieve this balance are
nothing short of sublime.
