In the Great Indie Girl-Group Boomlet of 2005-present, the four all-female singers and three all-male band members of Brooklyn's Tralala pretty much step to the snap of their own Bubble Tape. Look, the Pipettes and El Perro del Mar dressed the Shangri-Las or Ronettes in new, indie-pop knickers. The Long Blondes added Britpop spleen and 1970s UK punk charge. Named after both Last Exit to Brooklyn's gang-rape victim and the, uh, sing-songy nonsense phrase, Tralala layer energetic, roughshod vocal harmonies over sugary Ramones punk. Strawberries on Frosted Flakes, right?
A lot of the time, sure. Tralala's sound is a more finely distilled sonic reference than those of their peers, and on sophomore album Is That the Tralala the group's sharply focused young-love-in-NYC pop songs hint toward an extroverted, female-fronted Exploding Hearts. Opener "We're Coming Out" is a punk-is-fun prelude to a girl's night out, while "Are You Gonna Dance (With Me)" briskly chastises a wallflower date ("Did you just come to stare?") and "Early Tonight" sneaks out for boyfriendless good times. You're more likely to find songs about drunken cab rides ("Yellow Taxi") or not wanting to eat for fear of ruining a buzz ("BLT") than one of the Hearts' lovesick calls, but some of the same energy is present. Also present: a song about those dead West Virginia coal miners ("Tallmansville, W. Va.").
Ripped from your last year's headlines, that song's a bit more serious than even terse psychodramas like "No Pain No Pain", from Tralala's 2005 self-titled debut. Little else changes on Is That the Tralala, least of all, thankfully, the group's gritty production. An exception: Extended headlight metaphor "One Hard Turn Deserves Another" and extended James Bond-style shoe-heel armament metaphor "Secret Weapon" give guitarist Chris Talsness a chance to break out of his default fuzz-tone downstrums for some Television-esque solo heroics. Someone obviously isn't drinking enough.
Whatever, two albums in, it's pretty clear Tralala aren't entirely a put-on-- ties to band managers and influential New York record store Other Music be damned. It's tough not to make believe there's something going on here besides girls with amateurish voices having fun with their friends, singing 'bout boys 'n' booze. Like: "You think I'm retrospective of someone you used to know," goes the Wipers cover "Mystery", so it might almost be some elaborate meta-tease... or another post-riot-grrrl song about boys. Anyway, these dudes (gender-neutral, dammit!) may have great bangs, decent chops, and stupidsmart rock 'n' roll panache, but I still wish my favorite song by them wasn't off their 2005 Christmas EP.
