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Firstly, I’d like to preface this review with a rant. Recently on another site
where I do slave time writing music reviews (BE is not such a place), I gave an
album a ten out of ten on the rating. However, the clan of editors over there
decided my fucking writing skillz didn’t “prove” that the album was worthy as
such, and knocked it down to a nine. What the fuck ever. You see, they have
these stupid guidelines there to really make sure that they hardly ever give out
the best rating, as if they’re afraid that it might burst their “Take Us
Seriously!” bubble. Funny, but I thought it was I who was listening to the album
and giving the ratings. These jackasses never heard the album, but they’re just
assuming it isn’t good enough. Fuck them. Fuck ‘em all.
Rant over. Next, I’d like to say how much I love an album that instantly hits
you and you have no doubts about its worth and don’t have to listen to it
umpteen times to decide on whether or not you like it. Which reminds me, the
fact that so many muzak reviewing sites don’t pay the writers except with shitty
free CDs, and then the writers are all giving these crummy discs five or six
listens so that they can hopefully wring pop culture blood from a stone and make
it look like they went to some School of Thought, is ludicrous. An album is
either shit, it’s generically groovy, or it’s great. Who wants to read a bunch
of hoo-ha regarding how an album may or may not influence the starving kids in a
third world country? And why does it always have to be some third world country?
Why can’t it just be some place like, say, Chicago, for instance?
Second rant over. My apologies. The gist of this whole thing is that you guys
and gals need to get off your lazy asses right now and score a copy of
Longwave’s There’s a Fire, brought to you by those kind folks at RCA. Why
is this album so Important? Because it made me feel human. You see, my mom
passed away quite recently, and you go through a whole lot of fucked up mood
swings when such a thing happens. I thought my yearly week-long vacation to Cape
Cod would clear the weirdness away, but it didn’t. It just made me hot and lazy.
Anyway, this disc was waiting for me when all my accumulated mail was delivered
and so I put it on last night while taking a spin through Pittsburgh by myself
to just do that alone thing.
That’s right. One listen, kids. Five stars, one listen. At first I thought track
two here, “Underworld,” was getting too precious and that the whole damn thing
was going to sink after the phenomenal opening title track, but luckily I was
wrong. Something about this shit just kept pulling me in. I can’t even describe
this band fully, which is why I say just go out and buy it. Longwave apparently
have the talent to such things as putting Pink Floyd to shame in a space rock
mode, fully updating the whole shoegazing sound and giving those fans of My
Bloody Valentine’s Loveless room to finally fucking shut up and put
something else on, crank out the kind of masterful dramatic sound that Coldplay
always wished they could if they didn’t rely on remaking the same goddamn song
with that annoying piano in it over and over, and even throw in the ghost of
Lennon and do some Beatles sounding rock, as well as some fuzzed-out
garage noise.
It’s like they just took every tired thing in rock and roll that every fucking
lazy musician leans upon for influence, wiped their asses with it and turned it
into gold. It’s a hypnotic, beautiful, and dare I say shocking album that has
rightfully obliterated every other new release I’ve heard this year. And yeah,
that includes that other album I gave a ten to. Most of all, it brought me some
well-needed peace to the passing of dear old mom and made me remember why I
fucking love Pittsburgh and all its secret splendor. But that’s another tale
entirely. Just go out and buy this one. It’s the only album you’ll need
for 2005.
~Jason Thompson
jthompson@bullz-eye.com
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