THE BATS: FEAR OF GOD (1991)
1) Boogey Man; 2) The Black
And The Blue; 3) Dancing As The Boat Goes Down; 4) The Old Ones; 5) Hold All
The Butter; 6) Fear Of God; 7) It's A Lie; 8) Straight Image; 9) Watch The
Walls; 10) You Know We Shouldn't; 11) Jetsam; 12) The Looming Past.
On a strictly song-by-song basis, Fear Of God just might be The Bats'
greatest album, narrowly beating out Daddy's
Highway. The life-giving formula remains intact, but the overall impression
is that they gave it their best by tightening the screws with all remaining
strength — as a result, the riffs are sometimes sharper, the choruses
occasionally memorable on-the-spot, and the sound, without losing any of its
jangle foundation, is toughened and more «rock-bound». Some of the songs are,
in fact, closer to that very early «jangle-punk» style captured on ʽMade Up In
Blueʼ, and this gives the record a mildly darker tinge. And dark is good, as we
know.
Above all, my own personal favorite Bats song
is here: ʽDancing As The Boat Goes Downʼ is as «doom-laden» as this band ever
got. The alarming guitar ring, the ominous viola dance (provided by guest star
Alan Starrett, replacing Alastair Galbraith in the status of «our regular guest
guy to do the bowing»), and the perfectly phrased deterministic chorus — what
is this, Robert Scott preaching about the imminence of the end? And being
fairly convincing, too, without having to resort to dark basslines and dreary
gravel-voiced intonations? This is by no means «happy» music, but it is not
«obnoxiously depressing» music, either. Very good stuff.
The only other tune on the album to share the
worried grimness of ʽDancingʼ is the title track — a deeply paranoid love song,
rather than having anything to do with stances on religion; this one does have
a dark bassline, and a fuzzier rhythm guitar as well, but is not as effective
as ʽDancingʼ because the chorus is not nearly as catchy. We couldn't really
rave about a generally «serious» or «mature» tone of the album as a whole just
because it happens to have the words ʽfearʼ and ʽGodʼ rather than ʽDaddyʼ in
its title. Yet on the other hand, even the «lighter» songs also frequently give
the impression of being more «mature», if by «mature» we mean «accomplished» or
«requiring a little bit more time to bring them up to quality level».
Thus, the single ʽBoogey Manʼ opens with their purest-sounding
set of twin guitar chords so far, spun in a pretty revolving loop together with
the vocal verse melody, with the chorus providing, as its «counterpoint», yet
another such loop in a different tonality — everything perfectly coordinated,
if not altogether deeply emotional. The accordeon and organ flourishes on ʽThe
Old Onesʼ nicely shadow the caressing vocal harmonies. On ʽStraight Imageʼ, the
rhythm guitar is put in banjo mode, creating a particularly «busy» melody for
the verses that contrasts with the melodic folk-pop line of the bridge — two
entirely different voices co-inhabiting the same song without imposing on each
other. ʽYou Know We Shouldn'tʼ does a great job of amplifying its hook by
having the chorus doubled by an equally loud lead guitar line; together with
the power chords that triumphantly conclude each verse, this makes it into one
of the band's most efficient embodiments of the stereotypical «power pop»
ideology.
As before, though, the band's weak point —
though others might think it their strong point — remains the lack of a distinct
frontman personality. ʽThe Looming Pastʼ, with its title and lyrics about the
nighttime plight of the protagonist who's lost the capacity of being in love,
demands to be taken seriously, but neither the music nor Scott's monotonous vocal
delivery really live up to the drama. The delivery is tolerable, and the music,
with its zydeco-ish accordeon echoes, is pretty, and that's it: not a whiff of drama. Ian Curtis,
Morrissey, or Michael Stipe would probably have had a thing or two to say about
it. But on the other hand, you might say that The Bats are just playing it safe
— for every single admirer of Curtis, Morrissey, and Stipe, there is also a
hater, whereas «hating Robert Scott» would be a totally absurd activity.
Then again, «personality bluffing» is a part of
this game, too: there must be a reason why Joy Division, The Smiths, and R.E.M.
are all immensely popular, while The Bats have, for the most part, remained a
New Zealand phenomenon, and it doesn't exclusively
have to do with the fact that the average person in the Northern hemisphere is
usually unsure whether New Zealand is a part of Australia, a country in its own
right, or a name for a particularly wicked cocktail. As good as Fear Of God is, it is also smooth,
even, and not very inspirational. But it also works every time you are not
necessarily in the mood for inspiration — and that's just the time to catch it,
enjoy it, and give it a thumbs up before that old «yearning for something
grander» starts to set in.
Check "Fear Of God" (MP3) on Amazon
"the ominous viola dance"
ReplyDeleteNope. I used to play the viola myself and this one is not ominous - it's just jangling like the guitars. For an ominous viola try the second movement of Shostakovich' Viola Sonata (or for the viola's big sister: Simon House in High Tide).
Moreover I just don't like jangling, whether by guitars or by violins and viola's.
Robert Scott just called to say thank you for the Shostakovich comparison. He's probably never been more flattered in his life.
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