Their name reminds me of that shitty mid-90s movie about a doomed bomber plane mission during WWII, but that isn't important. I'm feeling charitable and, well, these guys sort of rock, too. A lot. It's taken me quite a few listens but I'm feeling them.
That said, I surely would have been about ten times as into this as I am now had I first come across this in, say, ninth or tenth grade. By that, I simply mean that Pilot to Gunner gets by on that sort of overtly "rock," unabashedly guitar-centric and kinetic sort of energy that adolescents, by dint of hormones or lack of cynical inhibitions, are so susceptible to.
There is, however, much more than brutish chugga-chugga rhythms and screamy vocals to enjoy here. For that sophisticate, college-jerk husk you wear over your dopey inner high-schooler, there's intricate guitar interplay, tense chords, and drumming that's tasteful to the utmost. So there. You allowed to like it now. But chances are that, after several listens, you'll probably like it whether you want to or not.
For starters, Pilot to Gunner is sing-songy as fuck. Scott Padden's voice hovers somewhere between Archers of Loaf's Eric Bachmann and-- forgive me-- Faith No More's original singer Chuck Mosely (better known in some circles as "?"). It's a throaty, hoarse, rousing kind of prolet-rock exhalation, not too far from the style of Tim Armstrong of Rancid and Operation Ivy fame. Coupled with the high quality dueling guitar parts, Madden's raspy pipes, and the contagious vocal lines they belt out, constitute the heart of these songs.
The opener, "Every Minute is a Movie," isn't the strongest choice for a lead-off track, but is still a reasonably above-par song. It begins with a few measures of handclaps, lifted straight from the intro to the Supremes' "Where Did Our Love Go," before a buzzing wall of fairly corny riffery appears suddenly. The track's vocals are the album's weakest, specifically in the verse sections, but still offer a considerable pay-off in the chorus. In any case, Padden immediately makes his presence and style felt, using his voice to great rhythmic and melodic effect. The end of the song features a short two-voice section that works very well, recalling the similar vocal stylings of Archers of Loaf and any number of D.C.-area acts.
"We Got Games at High Speeds," the second and title track, raises the bar to the high level the album will remain at for most of its duration. Again, the melody is key, though this track boasts some of the album's neatest play between the guitar and bass, and lays the foundation for the 1-2-3 punch of gripping, anthemic rock that follows. "Zero Return," "Put It In the Post," and "It's So Good to Be Here in Paris" comprise ten straight minutes of shockingly good punk that seems to draw heavily from the more melodic strains of the D.C. tradition, but sounds vaguely like a less cartoonish At the Drive-In. Nevertheless, while these songs should sound sonically familiar, it's nearly impossible to discern obvious influences, which is, of course, the hallmark of a good band.
There is an unfortunate, though slight, dip in song quality on "Bring It Libe" and "Believer Receiver" (tracks six and seven, respectively). They sound like knock-offs of the album's better songs, and noticeably less inspired. But then the ship is righted and stays so for the remaining three tracks: "Band Finale," "The Lurid Loop's Dead" and "Run Interference."
Whatever their songwriting technique, Pilot to Gunner seem to have the communication side of things down pat, which reflects their evocative bandname pretty nicely. Rock wheezes on.
