In the last six years of being a group, Jacuzzi Boys have gone through most of the archetypal "garage rock band in the early 21st century" motions. They played the Bruise Cruise, released a 7" via Scion A/V, put out records that sounded influenced by Johnny Thunders, and made a hard-to-watch video for "Glazin'" starring lip syncing vaginas. Their reputation to date comes from their rock'n'roll nuggets and solid live shows, and for Jacuzzi Boys, they pretty much threw all of that out the window. "On this record, we totally said, 'Fuck it,'" Gabriel Alcala told SPIN. They holed up at the Key Club in the Lake Michigan coast town Benton Harbor, where they worked with in-house production/engineering team Bill Skibbe and Jessica Ruffins to add a smooth glaze over their Iggy Pop-cosigned rock'n'roll spirit.
On paper, it's a potentially good move for this band to head in new directions. On Glazin', as Paul Thompson noted in his review, the band struggled to maintain a cohesive sound. Besides, it's become a fairly common practice in the garage world lately for artists to jump ship and explore new sonic territory. Hunx and His Punx recently went more cartoonishly aggro with awesome results. Harlem's Michael Coomers traded out his old band's volume for a more subdued (and very good) record as Lace Curtains. Mike Donovan has gone acoustic, and Ty Segall is constantly moving in different directions. On their new album, the Jacuzzis haven't gotten quiet like Ty did on Sleeper. They've started experimenting with the texture of their guitar sound, and they've started writing tracks that are, at times, spacier and more slick.
More than once, the songs of Jacuzzi Boys recall the Smith Westerns circa Dye It Blonde, and sometimes, they can wear that sound well and gain some catchy, immediate footing. "Dust" is an easy highlight, with a breezy opening guitar solo and some twinkling, twee percussive accents. They're at their best when they throw muscle behind their songs-- the vocals on "Hotline" seethe while the bassline drones and surges. Every now and then, Alcala breaks through the track's continuous drive with a loud, two-strum guitar stab and some spat-out consonants ("TUH"). That song's also an example of them implementing some spacier sounds with satisfying results. It's a similar deal on "Rubble", a ripper with some toy raygun synths and a meaty guitar sound.
The rest of the songs pose an obstacle, as the band start presenting new idea after new idea. "Guillotine" has a dub psych groove that repeats for a nearly unvarying four minutes. "Ultraglide" is the jangling and mellow album closer, which is pleasant enough, but once again overstays its welcome. The intro of "Over the Zoom" recalls the pulsing intro of Tame Impala's "Elephant", but without that song's bassline grooves or sonic dexterity. Ultimately, it's an album packed with monotony. Though they occasionally break through that pattern with a guitar solo or burst of intensity, for the most part, the songs just sit there, following the same tropes until they're over.
Jacuzzi Boys is a collection of well-recorded, well-constructed, boring songs. By throwing everything out the window and going for a new sound, they've made a record that feels anonymous. The stuttering "t-t-t-t-t-take it apart" chorus on "Double Vision" is the sort of rigid, slick, uncatchy material that sounds like it could've been churned out by a lower tier new wave band searching for radio play. The production's great; the songs are problematic. They're forgettable, and they don't wear well on repeat listens. The supporting players that are often discussed alongside this band-- their Hardly Art labelmates, artists they've shared bills and labels with, Iggy Pop-- are generally wild, attention-grabbing characters. The glossy, faceless songs on this record have muddied any definable personality the Jacuzzi Boys once had.
