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Black Helicopter - Donít Fuck With the Apocalypse

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Artist: Black Helicopter

Album: Donít Fuck With the Apocalypse

Label: Ecstatic Peace!

Review date: Jul. 15, 2010

Bostonís Black Helicopter is one of those rare bands whose music can be pretty accurately classified as ďrock.Ē Not so much the specifics of the groupís styling (which might be closer to post-rock), but rather their general approach: itís a disarmingly primitive one. On its latest, Donít Fuck With the Apocalypse, the group plays driving, hyper-masculine, mid-tempo tunes essentially devoid of cynicism or pretense. The guitars are overdriven, but not overly so, the bass is clunky and brute, and the vocals are neither fuzzed-out nor reverb-laden. If this all sounds middle-of-the-road, itís because it is. But itís also earnest and unaffected in a way that contrasts sharply with many of Black Helicopterís outrť peers: not once on Donít Fuck With the Apocalypse will one encounter lo-fidelity, noisy experimentation, or, really, any manner of trendiness.

Whatís the catch, then? That there is none, which is at once refreshing and slightly disconcerting. Letís start with the refreshing. The members of Black Helicopter are, first and foremost, great musicians, first-rate post-rock architects who manage an albumís worth of dark, angular vamps. Tracks like ďNone TakenĒ and ďClass ActionĒ marry Slintís eerie plod with Shellacís jagged assault, yielding a sound that is basic and accessible but also sufficiently nuanced. These guys are also clearly fans of early to mid-1990s slacker-rock; the first half of the album, especially, contains frequent nods to the likes of Grifters and Pavement (see ďGolden Days,Ē especially).

But despite a knack for channeling those oft-lauded predecessors, Black Helicopter unfailingly sound exactly like themselves, that is, thirtysomethings who were probably really into grunge. And therein, lies the problem. While their straightforwardness is initially exciting, even jarring, upon the second or third spin the novelty begins to wane. Lyrically, the group runs into a similar problem: songs about war, cheap nostalgia and middle-class disillusionment may be charming in their bluntness, but a few tracks in and the verses feel, at best, platitudinous, and, at worst, completely wooden. On ďNone Taken,Ē lead vox Tim Shea sings ďI guess I was never certain / Just how it was Iíd fit in.Ē Heís trying to convey unease and alienation, but the line is too stilted and vague to evoke real emotion.

All in all, Donít Fuck With the Apocalypse wonít disappoint, but it wonít do much of anything else, either.

By Jacob Kaplan

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