Album of the Week
Ok everybody, this isn’t the review that I’ve been promising. And that one won’t be up next week (probably) because next Tuesday is New Music Tuesday. But, if I can’t find any better new releases, it’s still fresh enough that I can get away with posting it then. So, in the interest of planning ahead, a different album will be featured this week. And I’m ok with that because I like this album better anyway (not that next week’s is bad). The only caveat with today’s album is that it makes me so uncontrollably mad that my fury could supply a thousand dying stars with life for millennia to come. And now I’ll explain that.
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American Football album & EP by American Football
The album and EP are both self-titled, and both very short, so I’ll be reviewing them together. Before I say anything about them, though, let me just tell you all that American Football is a Kinsella project. Those of you who know what that means, go ahead and change pants. For those of you who aren’t familiar, let me drop a few names: the Brothers Kinsella (Mike and Tim) are responsible for the majority, if not entirety, of the early 90’s Midwest emo scene and most of the big name bands from said scene including, but not limited to Cap’n Jazz, Joan of Arc, Owls, American Football, and Owen. This scene is responsible for The Promise Ring whose singer, Davey Von Bohlen, was in Cap’n Jazz, and also for Jimmy Eat World, who daily pray to several deities hoping to somehow become The Promise Ring. What does all of that mean? It means American Football ain’t some chump band. Notice how I used the word “ain’t” in that last sentence? Well, Microsoft Word, in all of its infinite wisdom, informed me that unless I have that apostrophe before the ‘t’, it was spelled wrong. Fuckers, it’s not a real word. Moving on. The realization that one of the Kinsellas is in this band should honestly be enough for you to stop reading, shit out $15, and buy the album and the EP, but for those of you who have more presence of mind than to just buy something because of shameless name dropping, good for you, you’re not a fucking sheep. Here’s some reviewing. If you’re looking for Hawthorne Heights’ great-great-great-grand-daddy, go away, this isn’t the music for you. What you’ll get with American Football is the second wave emo scene following in the wake of Fugazi, though not an actual emo band, they’re often cited as an influence. The indie-emo scene incorporated the emotional themes and lyrics of the emo genre, but toned down the chaotic guitars in favor of softer, more melodic sound. The good news is that since the guitars aren’t being chewed up and shit out by >9,000 distortion, what’s being played actually matters. This ultimately leads to more structured and complex guitar riffs, which is certainly the case in American Football. You’re not going to find John Petrucci-esque complex guitar (thank god), but this here is thinking music. It’s nigh impossible to listen and not think both “fuck, I can play that” and “shit, how the fuck did he come up with that?” at the same time.
My biggest problem is that the Kinsellas have the musical equivalent of diarrhea. Seriously. They shit out waterfalls of bands, and just can’t seem to stay on the toilet long enough to make one stick. American Football has a grand total of 12 songs accredited to their name, and for fuck’s sake I’ve written more than 12 songs. But they’re all shitty. The opening track to the album, Never Meant, is quite possibly one of the best songs to come out of the 90’s and arguable the best from that scene. It’s got a slow vibe, but the guitar is quick and the lead riff is almost uncomfortably long, but it stops just short of being ridiculous and winds up being perfect. The two guitars seamlessly blend together chords that sound like liquid glass and a stream of notes that feels like somebody is gently inserting a Fruit by the Foot covered in warm honey into your ear. It’s that good. Mike Kinsella’s voice is the cherries in this dish of musical ambrosia. He’s a great singer, but not so good that you think he should be grabbing his balls and singing opera. His voice is a little grainy and you can hear him strain to hit some of the higher notes. I like that. It gives him an earthy quality that brings out the lyrics. It sounds like he gives a shit! Isn’t that something. Why does this album bring out the darkest hate in me? Because it’s not enough! You need the EP as well, which continues the sound of the album and basically could be the last 3 tracks on it. I just wish that we could hear more from American Football. People tell me to try other Kinsella bands, which I wholehearted do enjoy. But it’s just not the same. It’s like having great sex with the hottest girl you’ve ever laid your filthy eyes on, only to have her break up with you to go to law school or some other bullshit, and you’re left with her twin. Yeah, she’s hot, and yeah, she’s great in bed. But Owen will never be American Football.
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This review was spawned by a conversation with one of my best friends, as well as one of my biggest supporters. The topic of bands with unfortunately short life spans came up, which inspired me to write about American Football. There are few albums that I think are so good everybody will love. This is one of them. Usually, my philosophy is that I’ll share my opinion with you, and you can agree or not. However, ff you don’t like American Football, you’re wrong. I’m going to have to plug iTunes for this one, though, folks. I haven’t been able to find a hard copy of either the album or EP, but both are readily available for purchase online. Go buy. Join me next week when I discuss something (mostly) new! Until then, keep breathing.
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