The Organ-- they weren't lying. In fact, there's one right on the first track of their debut album Grab That Gun, buried deep beneath the snappy, melody-bearing picked bass that's the first and most conspicuous indication of where this pipe-driven Vancouver quintet derive their sound. Another tip-off is Katie Sketch's yearning, almost Gregorian vocal delivery. Sulky and chorus-laden, opener "Brother" nods to a lengthy roster of rockers emeritus: Morrissey, Joy Division, the Shaggs, Interpol, Blondie, and the Cure-- especially the Cure. But "Brother" is no microwave dinner: It's the Organ's best song, a glistening fresh-caught tuna of spot-on nostalgia that casts the brightest of Grab That Gun's fast-burning rays.
Rarely have I been as excited by eighth notes as I was hearing the opening bars of "Brother" anew. Unfortunately, it's something of a bait and switch: Grab That Gun starts with a bang and rides it for the entirety of its brusque 29 minutes. By the end, it's floundering in pallid melodies, stalled and spent after such a brief time. For many bands, Smiths and Joy Division invocations are about cheap thrills and scoring easy points. The Organ's enthusiasm is a bit more sincere-- the band affect their moody aesthetic as if it were a genetically inherited disorder. But accuracy isn't enough to justify a conservative approach. The Organ must convince us that reverb-swollen dirges laced with heart-melting baritone vocals are a fresh dish in 2005.
Grab That Gun makes an ambiguous case. On the bright side, songs like "Brother" and "There Is Nothing I Can Do" follow trails blazed by On!Air!Library! and Interpol, who are among the more progressive-minded purveyors of new wave and post-punk revivalism. "There Is Nothing" is this record's obligatory sorrow-stauncher. Sketch is typically heavy, but awash in phased drums and sprightly guitars her voice takes on a more radiant character. "Sinking Hearts" is a paradigm of concision, packing a set of swift, seamless melodic maneuvers-- including Grab That Gun's best chorus-- into a stout two minutes.
Elsewhere, however, things feel redundant. Homogenous melodies wash over the album, bleeding into one another and taking on only slightly different hues. The Organ's forebears wrote catchy songs but often grew laborious in their gloom; by contrast, this bunch is much starchier. Grab That Gun strives to resurrect a sound and give it a soft safe spin for posterity's sake, but all it does is take a proven formula that's already been run into the ground and drive it further down. Nestled inside that cozy-- if occasionally fertile-- matrix, they'll have a difficult time making significant ripples.
