Moths are so freakin' disappointing. After a lifetime of hardship and struggle, the caterpillar emerges from its cocoon, soaring majestically over all of creation. The world is its oyster, and what does it do? It flies off to the nearest bug-zapper and incinerates itself, or gets eaten by something. There aren't many bigger letdowns in the animal kingdom. With Moth's debut, Provisions, Fiction and Gear, rock imitates life as an album that emerges as a solid, infectious effort, but eventually collapses under its own weight, unable to keep all its stylistic efforts coherent.
Moth's basic nature is fairly simple. Bristling, guitar-driven melodies and sometimes-too-cutesy, only slightly irritating vocals are their primary tools for survival, in addition to ex-Rocket From the Crypt drummer Atom Willard's exceptional percussion (and awesome name). However, being clever creatures, Moth camouflages their sound throughout Provisions with plenty of variations on this theme in order to confound potential critics. Constantly alternating between crunchy and smooth, loud and soft, bouncy and sober, the album never sits still long enough to let listeners settle in or second-guess. This sonically varied defense mechanism works to prevent Moth from being easily pigeonholed, but leads to a few forays into some ugly territory. No matter what a person's tastes, it's tough to imagine that anyone will be pleased by every track if taken sequentially.
In its larval stage, Moth has a soul of solid pogo punk, which they combine with the brains and sensibilities of art-rockers like Les Savy Fav. Provisions barrels out of the gate with "I See Sound" and "Thinking Please," two mighty anthems of pop energy that immediately set a blistering pace. "Burning Down My Sanity" really starts to show signs of this entity's development, building slowly on top of a pulsing drum rhythm that absolutely owns your hips until it's punctuated by a Yankee Stadium-sized guitar solo. The faint hint of southern drawl in the vocals gives the song a surreal edge, somewhat akin to the otherworldly experience of watching Ron Popeil hock food dehydrators at four in the morning.
At its zenith, Provisions is all set to metamorph into something truly spectacular with "Lovers Quarrel." Here, a Merritt-esque song about feelings gets into a fight with a massive, bass-spewing robot, while droning guitars and piano cheer them on. The resulting brawl is the auditory high-water mark, some of the impact of which is lessened with the paranoid schizophrenic "Cocaine Star" that immediately follows. A touching tale of love, drug abuse, and snowplow killing sprees, this song and "Lovers Quarrel" are like matter and anti-matter colliding. It's a jarring, not-altogether-pleasant experience, but the resulting emission of rock power is still pretty impressive.
Like a gyroscope faltering before completely losing its axis, Moth now puts on the air brakes and steers Provisions directly into the ground. I might be exaggerating a bit-- the last three tracks aren't really awful; they just let the upbeat, slightly absurdist tone that works so well in the earlier tracks fall by the wayside. No, wait, that's not entirely true either. "Straight Line" is pretty damn bad-- if you check, you might be able to find it in heavy rotation on KSUK 66.6 bookended by the latest Papa Roach single, "We're Rich and It's All Your Fault (Verizon Wireless Mix)," and the Enrique Iglesias hit, "I'm Talentless (No Tengo Ningún Talento)." Also, the chorus to "Not Really" reminds me so much of the opening seconds of "Bohemian Rhapsody" that it triggers eighth-grade Wayne's World acid flashbacks. (Queen, from Lucifer's heart, I stab at thee!) In and of themselves, these closing tracks are semi-palatable, but together they're truly hard to stomach.
There's a lot to like about this album, and these guys might have what it takes to make it in the wild somewhere on down the line. But for now, like their ill-fated namesake, Moth's Provisions, Fiction and Gear moves into the light just when it finally starts to get somewhere. I couldn't bring myself to downgrade it too harshly since most of the album is pretty enjoyable, but be warned: this album is all over the place. If you're like me-- and for your sake, I hope not-- you hate disappointment, and Moth's debut never quite finishes what it starts.
