Bright, Young Californian Things WAVVES (pronounced "waves" and not "wavs," oh, the
shame of it) still just about manage to look like bright, young things, as they play
to a reasonably well-attended Deaf Institute.
Much has been made of lead singer Nathan
Williams' wonderfully bizarre breakdown at Primavera Festival due to well-ahead-of-time alcohol addiction
and drug use problems. On tonight's evidence, WAVVES seem to be on calmer waters for the
time being, at least.
By virtue of their turbulent Iberian travails, WAVVES are part of a fairly specialist
rock family tree grouping to have suffered and survived near-terminal internal turmoil
before most people had even heard of them. The line-up has already changed once
due to infighting as a result of said breakdown. Talk about a band not doing itself a
whole heap of favours.
There is, of course, a counter argument that suggests band soap operas create their
own press - press that most well-behaved bands would gladly sacrifice a limb for. But no
band is fondly remembered for a bunch of what-ifs and some forgotten news cuttings, no
matter how much the rock rulebook decrees that opposing convention is a good thing. Even
Bright Young Thing Craig Nicholls managed to get some music down before things went
awry. Happily, WAVVES aren't all misdemeanant bark and no real bite. Two albums in and
there's enough of a warrant to talk about this band in terms of its creativity and not
its predilection for self-destruction.
WAVVES' second album Wavvves (count the v's), has been the recipient of a fair
amount of praise, with comparisons to No Age, Deerhunter, The
Wipers and even Sonic Youth, suggesting that Williams' prodigious gift for
three-minute fuzz-pop songwriting hasn't gone unnoticed. One can't help but feel that's
quite a bit of expectancy-related pressure for a guy that has already had a breakdown.
If Williams has truly decided to go about things antithetically, it means the fatalistic
spiral aversion reflex mechanism should now be in operation, with the best hopefully
still to come from the San Diego native.
It goes without saying that being Californian and writing hooky little pop ditties
comes automatically packaged with Beach Boys references. Even though there's a tonne of
lo-fi scuzz and a drizzle of no-fi synth to work through on Wavvves, the songs'
underyling melodies are unquestionably Californian and sun-drenched.
Live, things are a
little different. There's less fuzz (and no synth) and in its place are lashings of
surf-rock reverb. The sound's still Californian, but it's less '90s-era garage rock raw
and more like an American bastardisation of '60s Merseybeat. Williams even has a slacker
McCartney head shake and cheeky grin to go with the jangling, three-chord pop.
Like the album, the only thing wrong with the performance is its slight monotonality.
In saying that, it's a loveable drone that suits Williams' slacker/loner lyrical
aesthetic. Tracks like No Hope Kids and I'm So Bored are spine-tingling evocations of
the least spine-tingling feelings going: numbness and hopelessness. It's good news
Williams seems to have recovered from his addictions, because there aren't many able to
translate boredom with such precise and happy conviction.
ALBUM:
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