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Ladyhawk
Forced dramatic line after faux energetic riff mar Ladyhawk's debut from beginning to end. Their proclaimed influences all catch up with them as the disc moves along, promising plenty but eventually crashing in a blur of warn out conventions and over-cooked clichés.
Jagjaguwar
I get absolutely no images, no rush out of this album unless the band is slowly plodding through ground I've already heard covered. I hate to say it, but despite the bluesy riffs and the rather country swagger that plays out behind the band's guitars, there's nothing that really attracts me to this band. On a couple of songs, Ladyhawk sound like an inspired band that's yet to bloom. On the rest of the album, they sound like band that wants to relive the favorite parts of their youth through the wail of feedback and the thump of swinging drums. Part of my dissatisfaction comes with how unbound the record is, being divided into several distinct parts. The first third is a visitation by ghosts of the grunge revolution: all distortion and pop structures rethought, the first few songs belong to the early 90s. The next two thirds are variations on country rock music and the lineage of the Byrds or The Flying Burrito Brothers. The songs just aren't powerful enough to carry that theme and in the end the album falls apart because the band is unsure of which direction to head in. Even worse, there are times when the two almost merge and those moments are outright embarrassing.
"The Dugout" sounds like my radio did when I was in junior high school. A chorus is followed by a verse ad infinitum with a bridge tossed in for good measure, just so the audience doesn't fall asleep from the repetition. My attitude towards this song doesn't stem from a dislike for good pop or rock music, it's just a result of hearing too much of the same thing for too long, most of it done with less skill, talent, or power than the original performances. Though I haven't had the inclination to give the lyrics a whole lot of my attention, their delivery reminds me of all the songs I heard around that time that dealt with the usual in the most usual of ways: heartbreak, loss, loneliness, depression, and all the usual suspects portrayed as the result of youthful ignorance or devious loved ones. I could be wrong and all these lyrics could be wonderfully written bits of poetry, but what does it matter when they're dragged through the same old sludge of woe and histrionics?
When the band slows their music down they're slightly more tolerable. In these relaxed moments they portray their intent more skillfully, showing a proclivity for epic songwriting and intensity through gentle progression instead of speed or volume. "Long 'Til the Morning" is an outstanding song, the only outstanding song on the album.
While this makes listening to the album more than once a bit easier, it does nothing to save it from its hero worship. If I wanted to listen to any of the music Ladyhawk plays, I could easily go to my collection and pick something out that not only acts as the origin of Ladyhawk's sound in some way, but is far more entertaining and worthwhile. There's no need for another record of music we've heard before, especially when this record has been released before, in several versions, over a course of 30 years, to much better effect.
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