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Rocket
Science
Contact High
(Eat
Sleep)
Rocket Science are one of those bands that deserve bigger things.
Emerging in Melbourne in the late 90's, their arrival outside
Australia has unfortunately been eclipsed by the arrival of
other bands, such as The Vines and Jet. Without the handicap
of being permanently out of their nazzers on drugs, or not having
washed for several years, Rocket Science are quite good. They
have been in the news recently as frontman Roman Tucker collapsed
before a hometown gig, and was in a coma for a few weeks. It's
a lucky thing he very recently came out of it, as we really
need more people like him writing the brilliant songs that pepper
this album.
Rocket Science's sound is based primarily around the organ and
theremin played by Tucker, which manages to sound like the soundtrack
for a seedy German 70's porno film, possibly called something
like Hans' Naughty Journeys. You know the sort, Corky.
Tuckers' voice is also surprisingly versatile; you can really
hear the sneering, but can be remarkably tender at times. With
Dave Gray's fuzzy bass dominating proceedings beyond that and
Kit Warhurst's excellent drumming, Paul Mabury's guitar is relegated
to lower down the musical food chain to rhythm duties, and the
odd solo. This is very refreshing; as the traditional guitar
led three-piece are now ten a penny.
As befits an ex-psychiatric nurse, Roman Tucker is abso-bleedin'-lutely
mental. There are songs about robots, being followed, and traffic
jams. In space. As befits the name of the band, rockets and
science are also of top priority. The album begins with “Heavy
Traffic” and sets the scene for the rest of the album:
a Hammond organ playing a mutated version of “The Elephant
Walk,” mid-range fuzzy bass, and the mechanical wailing
of a theremin, like a robot puppy pleading for more oil, or
whatever robot puppies eat. “Heavy Traffic” also
has an *amazing* chorus, and ends in a Doors-esque squeal of
guitars and organ. “Being followed” fulfils its
title perfectly by being the song after “Heavy Traffic.”
The first single of the album, this is also the quietest song.
Reggae bass lines and alternating upwards scales dance playfully
around Tucker's lyrics of paranoia and alienation like otters
gamboling around a burning wreck of a car. In a good way. At
the end of the song, there is a breakdown which sounds suspiciously
like the middle eight of “Light my Fire” by The
Doors. And it's great. “Run like a Gun,” a highlight
of last year's Run like a Gun EP returns here, and
rocks your bloody socks off. Ace distorted bass line, theremin
sounding like someone zipping something up and Tucker sneering
lyrics about riding motorbikes through the night. Absolutely
fantastic. “Going Away” is simply Supergrass meets
the Hives on ecstasy, and they share points of view on how to
cover the MC5.
Sadly, this is also the point where the album tails off into
mediocre album filler. There's nothing technically wrong with
“Economic Decline,” and “One Robot”
has a chorus that sounds like the Red Hot Chili Peppers. “Today's
Soundtrack For Tomorrow's Swinging Generation” is little
more than an excellent title. But you can hear the decline in
songwriting in the last few songs, and it's this decline that
makes you feel so uncomfortable after listening to some truly
promising compositions. Essentially, the garage rock bands that
have come from down under can be personified: The Vines would
be the perma-stoned hippie friend we all have, The Datsuns the
boy that the girls all fancy, and Jet as the hoary, sweaty old
rocker in most pubs going on about how he could have been in
the Stones were he not a day late for the audition. Rocket Science
here are the Mad Professors; on the verge of something eccentrically
brilliant, but encountering drawbacks along the way, until all
we are left with are the original frustrating glimpses of excellence.
Let's hope the new album has this fire. Must try harder, lads.
Reviewed by
Joe Evans
May 17th, 2004 |
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