In truth, I've been avoiding writing this review for sometime. Now, don't get the wrong idea; it's not because I don't like the disc, or not wish to share it with the world. Au contraire, I absolutely love this baby and want to scream from the mountain tops for all to track it down and buy it. For God's sake, it's talent like this that we need to support. In fact, I'll go on the record right here as saying that this just may be my favorite disc of this kind that's crossed the Ripple threshold so far this year. Streets of Mars have crafted a devastating set of blindingly infectious alt-pop songs. No, the music's not the problem. I've avoided writing this review because I just can't believe that anything I say will be able to do the high-energy, pop-infused punk sounds of Streets of Mars justice or adequately capture their style in words. But that's what you pay me to do, so here goes.Last week, the Pope and I went to catch another Ripple favorite, War Stories, at the Beauty Bar in San Diego. After their breathtakingly fantastic show, Pope and I looked at each other and nodded in unison. We knew. We knew that War Stories had "it." That special "X-factor," that separates bands that are merely talented from those bands that are destined to make it huge. That special combination of talent, crafty hooks, exceptional songwriting, gobs of personality and enough pizazz to make the whole package sizzle. The exact sort of band we plan on signing to the nascent Ripple Record label.
Streets of Mars are another such band.
If you like spiky, energy-infused alt-pop rock, SOM are for you. If you like huge, swooping bass lines, with dynamite hooks, you've got to check these guys out. If you like Everest-sized melodies with feisty choruses that will invade your dreams for days, trust me, you've got to listen to this. The disc is so good, it has me salivating like a Pavlovian dog at the mere thought of it.
Coming from Sweden, Streets of Mars, are way to big to be captured on the small 7-song EP that's spinning in my player here. Each song on this disc is an absolute winner, a cache of radio-ready rockers with enough punky energy to maintain their edge, but enough hooks to light up every radio switchboard in town. Think of them as having the punky-garage vibe of their countrymen, The Hellacopters, combined with The Red Hot Chili Peppers soul and funk. Add in some nuggets of The Clash at their most Jamaican, a dash of the alt-rock of U2 and you'll get the feeling."Breath In, Breathe Out," is a fine example of what these guys bring to the table. Following a chiming guitar intro, the song immediately drops down into a dynamite, finger-snapping, toe-tapping, old-school swing beat. Zizmond immediately distinguishes himself as a singer of talent, carrying a slightly-nasal voice a la Anthony Kiedis, but laced with a much more soulful quality, deep and breathy, slightly throaty. The talent brimming in the rest of the band jumps right to the front. Saki is a bass player of the multi-armed variety, slipping in little surprise runs in the most amazing places, Tobais keeps his guitar simple, dashing in and out with staccato bursts, infusing the music with an undeniable energy, while Mats never loses sight of the inherent groove. "Breathe In, Breath Out," positively resonates with a soulful energy, driving from one strong melody to another, culminating in a freaking earworm of a choral hook that I found myself singing for days after first hearing it.
It's hard for me to choose a favorite song on this disc, each one being strong enough to be a radio-hit, but if I had to choose it may be "Taste." Bringing on a gigantic reggae bass line, the boys twist and turn the song in new directions. Time keeping is left to the distorted skanking guitar while Saki's fingers dance across the bass lines with the grace of a tango master. Zizmond's voice is more reminiscent of Kiedis here, but still wholly engaged in a quality all his own. This is a monstrous, bottom-heavy rocker leading to another drop-dead choral hook. A long time ago, I fell in love with a band that could effortlessly mix reggae bass and beats to great melodic songs, The Tazmanian Devils (any one remember them?). SOM does everything that I loved about the Taz Devils and more, marrying their beat to the cutting energy of modern rock. And perhaps more than anything, that's what these guys do so well. Boasting a complete mastery of melody, SOM can latch any type of rock song to that massive chorus that invades my frontal lobe, causing me to break out into song at strange and sometime inopportune moments.
"So Fine,"come next, another powerful winner. Cutting through the fancy writer speak, I simply love this song. Coming at me with a slightly denser, darker feeling, laced with melancholy, the jangly guitar breaks down to another charging, can't-miss chorus. Mats shines here, adding a tone of forbearing with his low rumble of percussion, ominous in tone, like a thunderclap rolling in from the mountains. Driving in my car, I swear, all pedestrians and fellow commuters must look at me as if I'm a madman, mouthing the words to the verse and screaming at the top of my lungs to the chorus, pretending I'm on stage with the boys singing this baby. Tobias adds a little extra guitar flourish beyond the opening scythe of chords, still keeping his solo spartan and focused with a tinge of The Edge. Meanwhile, Zizmond digs so deep into his vocals, bringing up so much soulful emotion, at times he almost sounds like Seal belting out a garage rocker. As with the prior two songs, there's no logical reason why this song shouldn't be dominating alt-radio. I know for a fact it, and the others, will be making frequent appearances on the Ripple Radio playlist for months to come.In terms of craft, don't go here looking for the complexities of prog; the boys like to keep it simple and straight-forward in the best of the garage rock traditions. But that doesn't mean they stick to the same 3 chords. Listen closely, there's a lot going on there amongst the seemingly simple arrangements. Particularly listen to the bottom end and marvel at Saki's nineteen-fingered playing. Never is this more clear than in "Paralyzed Universe," another Red Hot Chile Peppers-inspired alt-rock/funk blast. Underneath the scatting guitar, Saki absolutely steals the show, dropping in miniature finger runs beneath Tobias' guitar distortions. Zizmond sounds most Anthony Kiedis here, in phrasing and tone. Another strong song in a set of strong songs.
"Sold Out," brings on shades of the Clash with it's skanking guitar, a sound brought to greater fruition with "Bleeder." Both songs are nicely composed slices of indy rock, the later laced with a great Elvis Costello-ish chorus. With both songs, the boys bring on the energy as if plugged in to a high voltage outlet. I have no doubt that live, SOM could tear it up, obliterating the audience with their raw passion and polished hooks. Put them on a slate with War Stories and you'll never get the Pope or I to leave.
In the end, Streets of Mars are definitely a band to watch. But to find them, you better be looking up, because these boys got all the makings of a band on the rise. Straight to the top of the garage/rock stratosphere. The real question to ask about this 7-song EP isn't whether or not the disc is any good, but rather, which of the seven tracks will you be unknowingly singing to yourself weeks from now. My guess is all of them.
--Racer
www.myspace.com/streetsofmars
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