Aural Fixations

THE WILDHEARTS
The Wildhearts Must Be Destroyed
(Gut/Sanctuary)
Regular readers of this site are probably getting a bit sick of seeing the Wildhearts' name appear yet again. Well, tough feces. The British quartet's name is getting splashed all over these cyberpages once again, because its 2003 album The Wildhearts Must Be Destroyed is finally getting a proper U.S. release. And there was great rejoicing in the streets! Well, there should be, at least among fans of real rock & roll, because Must Be Destroyed is one of the best rock records in recent memory, maybe the band's best since its landmark 1993 debut Earth Vs. the Wildhearts. For those just coming in on the Wildhearts-High Bias love affair, what makes the 'hearts so special is that the band represents a near-perfect marriage between smartly crafted songs and crazed rock & roll energy. This is one band that's never had a problem capturing its in-concert lightning in a bottle for its recordings, and Must Be Destroyed is a great example. "Top of the World," "So Into You" (most definitely NOT the Atlanta Rhythm Section song) and the almost sweetly vulnerable "Someone Who Won't Let Me Go" would be almost saccharine in lesser hands; in the grubby mitts of the 'hearts, they're roaring pop anthems that flip the Richter needle without giving an inch on catchy hooks. "One Love, One Life, One Girl" is even more blatant in its pounding heart-on-sleeve approach. "There's Only One Hell," the glass-smashing but super-catchy "Vanilla Radio" (a sardonic attack on the blandness infecting the airwaves, natch) and the snarling, distortion-riddled "Nexus Icon" (a parodic tribute to an unnamed rock star) administer healthy doses of frontman Ginger's sarcastic sense of humor along with the rock candy. Alternating cheeky rants with unvarnished romantic testaments keeps the former from sounding churlish and the latter from bathing in false sentimentality, making it clear that there's a savvy brain as well as Volkswagen-sized balls at the heart of this band. That said, brains vs. brawn may not matter much when the melodies inspire instant singalongs and the crunch practically demands a demonstration of one's air guitar prowess. The Wildhearts Must Be Destroyed is one of those classic albums that hits you in the gut first; by the time your brain engages with the subtle arrangements and lyrical wit, those elements become simply attributes that make this gem shine all the brighter. Michael Toland [buy it]