DEADSY
Commencement
(Elementree/DreamWorks)
RIALTO
Night On Earth
(Eagle/KOCH)
When people think of the 80s, very few of them ponder happy memories. (Hardcore right wing conservatives, maybe...) Those that don't bemoan the hard economic times, rampant greed and repressive social atmosphere complain about the music. When, they ask, has music ever been as cold, sterile and devoid of feeling? Has music ever been as plastic as it was during Ronald Reagan's reign? Putting aside issues of pop music perhaps always having been dominated by the shiniest product (listened to the radio lately?), the 80s saw the rise of both the synthesizer and MTV. This was music that could be programmed into a computer and was designed to have its biggest impact visually instead of aurally. Certain sounds, even now, trigger memories of a specific era—bands like Duran Duran, Peter Schilling and Spandau Ballet (if you used to listen to top 40 radio) or Ultravox, New Order and Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark (if you listened to college radio)—maybe even Wall of Voodoo, Talk Talk or Gary Numan if you had taste for the outré. Numan in particular stands out; even though he's known in America as being a one-hit wonder ("Cars," of course), his synth-heavy sound is probably one of the era's most influential. How many artists of the period imitated his Moog licks, robotic vocal style and implicit criticism of style over substance (and no doubt misunderstanding that last point)?
The question for today, however, is how many artists right now, in 2002, also look back to those heady days of polish and savings and loan scandals and draw inspiration from it? The band Orgy, though it fits squarely in the metal-hop arena with Limp Bizkit and its ilk, had its biggest hit with a reasonably faithful cover of New Order's "Blue Monday," which is a pretty fair indication of what the boys in the band were listening to when they were growing up. Kids who had no access to "alternative" music outside of MTV are now old enough to have bands themselves; they've absorbed other influences, both more mainstream and more obscure, along the way, but the radio tunes of their youth have stuck to their brain pans, influencing the music they make now both subtlely and overtly. This isn't necessarily a bad thing; a radio landscape dominated by beat-heavy R&B and tuneless nü-metal could use a few of the 80s' bombastic but undeniably memorable hooks. If young artists can take elements of the synthesized Reagan years and meld them to contemporary ideas, more power to them.
Los Angeles-based quintet Deadsy takes firm hold of its 80s roots, yanks them out of the ground and replants them in the fertile soil of new millennium modern rock on its long-delayed debut Commencement. The band, led by singer/guitarist P. Exeter Blue I (AKA Elijah Blue, son of Cher and Gregg Allman), has ties to the nü-metal world, but despite guest appearances by Korn's Jonathan Davis and Orgy's Jay Gordon, production from Jay Baumgardner (Papa Roach, Slipknot) and Josh Abraham (Staind, Orgy) and a video directed by Limp Bizkit's Fred Durst, there's little here that makes the connection obvious. Blue and company instead graft heavy, down-tuned guitars and fuzzed out bass to straightforward 4/4 drums (no hip-hop at all), simple but memorable pop/rock melodies and keyboardist Dr. Nner's prominently featured analog synth licks. Imagine Gary Numan's "Down in the Park" with more guitars and you're not far off. Topped off with Blue's charismatic, Goth-infused baritone, the blend makes for an addictive brew that will have musicians of a certain generation slapping their foreheads because they didn't think of it first. Irresistibly catchy tunes like "Mansion World," "Lake Waramaug" and "The Key to Gramercy Park" boast the kind of monstrous hooks associated with the ear candy of Reaganomics. A pair of unlikely covers hint at the band's mindset—Rush's "Tom Sawyer" gets a faithful run-through that revitalizes an old warhorse, while Sebadoh's "Brand New Love" takes on a bright, early-80s new wave cast that not only finds the sweet melody hiding behind Lou Barlow's indie credibility but also demonstrates that Deadsy isn't mired in the past. The album tends to drag in the middle, when songs like "Flowing Glower" and "Future Years" slow down to a crawl, and the lyrics aren't nearly as profound as its philosophy-loving author thinks them to be. Plus, at nearly 70 minutes the record is simply too long. But when the band is at its best, it makes Commencement a delightfully sinful confection.
London's Rialto also uses early 80s synth licks to spice up its sound, but that sound is already grounded in the greed decade on the quartet's second album Night On Earth. Leader Louis Eliot is obviously enamored of 80s guitar pop; his melodic, emotional tunes wouldn't sound out of place between Echo & the Bunnymen and the Psychedelic Furs on a hip radio station in 1984. Unlike Deadsy, Rialto takes its core sound from the 80s, adding contemporary bits to bring itself up to date. Guitarist Jonny Bull programs very modern-sounding beats to augment drummer Pete Cuthbert's steady rhythms, giving the tracks a sense of groove they might not otherwise have. Even the most rhythmically sedate tracks use at least a little programmed thump or lush synth padding. "Anyone Out There?" takes its message of alienation out to the dance floor on retro 80s night without leaving its winsome melody behind; "Idiot Twin" goes from stark synth-funk on the verses to aggressive rock on the chorus. "Drive" and "Brilliant Fake" also get good use out of programmed time signatures. Also unlike Deadsy, Rialto is less concerned with sound itself and more with which sounds get its songs across. Ear candy isn't the raison d'être here; emotional purity is. The myriad guitar/synth noises suit the soaring melodies of "Shatterproof" and "Anything Could Happen;" the blips and swooshes never detract from the desperation inherent in lyrics like "Is there anybody there that can pull me out of this black hole?" Eliot knows when to strip the production down as well: the lovely "Underneath a Distant Moon" rests its sentimental vocal on a bed of acoustic guitar, (fake) strings and theremin, while "Catherine's Wheel" gets a bonus acoustic rearrangement to make its standing as a strong song clear. This particular Night On Earth sounds like a nice one in which to find oneself.
Deadsy uses its 80s influence to enhance its contemporary brand of rocking ear candy, while Rialto blends its revisitations with its own emotional thrust. Both bands dissipate bad memories of sterile corporate rock and find what heart, if any, existed in Reagan's world. Neither band should be dismissed lightly, just because of their obvious affection for a time most music fans claim they'd like to forget. Michael Toland
For fans of:
Deadsy: Gary Numan, Peter Murphy, Orgy
Rialto: Simple Minds, A House, early The The
Copyright © 2002 High Bias
