Here at the Ripple, we've been blessed recently with a veritable flood of fantastic new bands just dripping with youth, talent and enthusiasm. In these pages we've already yelled to the masses the praises of War Stories, Streets of Mars, Only Makebelieve, and that's only been in the last month! Now, The Steps comes swaggering into our office, confidently taking their place right up there amongst the best of the new Ripple bands.Brandishing a retro-sixties psych-pop sensibility, married to a modern rock edge, pumped full with the heart of classic garage rock from eons past, The Steps sound like some mad collision of 1960 with the present day through the workings of a manic time machine. This is a full-out, ballsy blast of garage rock decorated with the swirling tinsel of psychedelic flourishes, and truth be told, it's freaking good. In a fair and just world, The Steps would be one of the sensations of 2009 and beyond. Their sound is immediately likable, instantly engaging, infectiously addicting, and in the end, one of the most satisfying debuts we've heard. A rock and roll record for the ages.
I don't know exactly what these cats grew up listening to, but I can nearly guarantee you that amongst the requisite Beatles and Stones discs, you'll find more than one Church album, and an entire flotilla of bands like the Electric Prunes and The Seeds. Throw in some retro-punk energy, a hint of R.E.M. in musicality and hooks, and you'll begin to get the feeling for the master work that these cats have created. Intensely melodic songs, loaded with confident hooks, and brimming with the energy of youth and enough muscle to blast the entire thing through my subwolfer. The albums rocks, rolls, shimmers, glows. Garage psych for a new millennium.
"Pull the Chord," starts us off with a perfect snapshot of what The Steps have to offer. Following a loosely strummed intro, the psych flourish explodes in a shimmering burst of brightness and color. Slow and intently languid at first, the songs shimmies along riding along the pulsing bassline, until . . . BOOM! The chorus literally explodes off the disc, driving straight into your gut with it's urgency. Immediately, William Thompson's voice distinguishes itself as one to be reckoned with. Alternating from a deep, moody baritone to an escalating, deeply soulful, throaty cry, Thompson's not afraid to let his voice crack and wobble, digging deep into his heart to blast out a tone of pure emotion. One listen to him baring himself during the resounding chorus let's you know this is a singer of passion and intensity. A perfect voice for this band, but beyond that, a voice capable of driving his emotion deep into the heart of the listener. It's a voice you can grab hold onto and let it carry you wherever the fuck it wants to take you.Bringing on the guitar as well, Thompson is joined by (brother?) Sam Thompson on shimmering lead guitar, Stephen Ross on bass and Z Lynch on drums. Together, the boys' sound is intense and deeply organic, warm yet powerful. "Pull the Chord," moves from emotions as effortlessly as Santa delivers presents on Christmas day. And again, there's that chorus. It's the type of soaring, anthemic chorus that can only be sung with your hands outstretched in the air, reaching towards the light of heaven. Yes, it really is that good.
Then before you've had a chance to catch your breath, "Ross's bass launches straight into the classic, propulsive line of "Dagger." A slightly off-time guitar break follows, dropping right back into that bass line. Thompson musters up as much snot and sneer in his voice as he can for the verse until the song reaches its pure-on charging point at the chorus. The dynamics of this song are truly stunning. This is a whole album's worth of songwriting shoe-horned into 2:23. From the pure garage intro, dropping down to the moodiness of the first verse, exploding into full-on punk energy at the chorus, drifting off into gentle swirls of psychedelia at the post-chorus break, before dropping right back to that bass line. Listen closely for the brief runs of psychedelic guitar shining over the pure garage of the bass or running in unexpected arpeggios. And never once does any of it sound forced, rather it develops completely organically. Whew! I'm getting tired just writing about it!Just to show that the boys haven't shot their wad, "Outlaw," comes next, leading into a mini-set of six songs, any one of which would be the best song on a lesser band's record. "Outlaw," rides a very Church-esque vibe, both in it's chiming Wilson-Piper-esque guitar and Thompson's Kilbey-esque vocal phrasing. The difference here is clear. While Kilbey's monotonal baritone can lull some to sleep, Thompson never travels down that path, keeping his voice constantly edged with passion. Then, just when you think you know what the song's about, the boys drop an atom bomb of a chorus into your lap. Amped up with the pure muscle of garage rock guitars, they drive this one all the way through your frontal lobe, deep into the most visceral part of your brain. Like any good drug, you'll be hooked instantly.
Somehow, "Won't Stop," manages to outdo the previous cut. Featuring a slicing guitar hook, the boys drop into a modern rock-tinged groove at the chorus. Subtle, but the guitar work here is phenomenal, particularly the shining arpeggio that ends the measure. Then when the guitar drops away, leaving the bass and drums naked. . . with the guitar roaring back in, as muscular as a linebacker on steroids. . . oh baby. "Cold Floors," tears it up with some dandy guitar riffery chiming over a dirty blues beat and a call and response vocal verse. Take all the non-annoying aspects of the White Stripes and insert them here, with more flash and flare and you'll get the picture. An absolute winner.
"Belle," follows next rooted deep in the retro-sixties pop sensibilities, with glistening guitars and big, big hooks. Let me put it to you this way, when I wanted to play The Steps for my wife, Mrs. Racer, and be assured that she'd be as enthusiastic about them as I am, this is the song I played. There may not be a human alive who can resist the confection of that chorus. Then, to add even more embarrassment to this trove of riches, "Townes Lane," takes the best of all that you've just heard and mushes it all together in one glorious freak out of retro-psych garage pop. Church-esque in execution and vocal phrasing, again, the boys jam this tune with enough energy and passion to make it all their own. And again, there's that freaking chorus! "Loose Mind," is just a flying, unadulterated garage rock blast, but still with more dynamic shifts and substance than you'd ever expect.After all this splendor, you still have five songs to go. But I've run out of room. So let me end by simply saying that The Steps are far too big to not be known across the continental 48 and beyond. Personally, I expect that to change this week as the boys are on the docket at SXSW and I have no doubt they'll be a major buzz band. I've included their performance schedule at the bottom of this review. If you have a chance to catch them, don't miss it. I bet these cats totally tear it up live. Damn, I wish I was going. Pope, fire up the Ripple mobile. We got us a road trip to take!
--Racer
www.wearethesteps.com/
THE STEPS SXSW Schedule:
March 14 / Austinist Presents Local Music is Sexy 7 @ Pure Volume House / 11pm
March 18 / CoLab Compound / 4pm
March 19/ GSD&M Back lawn / 5pm
March 20 / Cream Vintage / 2pm
March 20 / SXSW OFFICIAL SHOWCASE @ Maggie Mae's Gibson Room / 8pm
March 21 / Doc?s / 2pm
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