Bands! Say no to the devil! Resist the temptation to put your chiseled, contemplative mugs on your album cover! See, otherwise, you force consumers to imagine you prepping for the photo-- trimming facial hair, arranging jewelry, symmetry-checking your collar, flossing, etc. What are the two Elk Citizens in the back supposed to be glaring at with such rock-deepness? Is there an awesome, awesome fern on display just outside our view? Are they pretending not to know about the camera, like the accident-injury lawyers whose commercials always begin all 'impromptu' while the attorney is mid-study in his library? "Oh, sorry, hi. Have you or has someone you know been the victim of neglect?"
Meanwhile: Elk City has tweaked their special blend of 80s and 90s influences to sound like more than a murk-rock rehash. In fact, half the material on this release is downright buoyant, with half of that stuff approaching the realm of the anthemic. Hold Tight the Ropes ends up being a very diverse record, as songs linger, then burst, then echo, then leap, then recoil, then howl, then jaunt. As Peter Langland-Hassan and Renee LoBue call-and-respond, all over the place loom shades of Lou Reed paired up with the sometime-vamps of Blondie, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Mekons, Mazzy Star, and Cowboy Junkies. But: this mix often doesn't supersede its roots (or its stereo-time competition), leaving the listener with the feeling that they've just gorged on some casserole-flavored casserole.
The disc gets better as it goes, revealing some interesting dynamics that, methinks, serve as testimony that this band ain't yet found itself. For example, Peter sounds a lot more sultry (without trying) than Renee (who is trying). I got more: the band is hard to take seriously when they're striking a 'serious' enraptured pose, yet when they ease up on the drama they convey legitimate emotion and urgency missing in their self-consciously emotive/urgent 'look out, world' offerings. Therefore, Hold Tight the Ropes gets much, much better toward its end, when weighty wanna-bes such as "Once and For All" and "Don't Fight What You've Become" yield to more mundane (and ironically, more effective) songs called "Football" and "K-Mart", both of which boast supernal organs, smooth percussion, and Pavement-toned fuzz-plosion solos. I'd even go as far as to say that "Summer Song" is a damn classic, proving that this band can have fun, as they call to mind a Bizarro-world radio-ready Sonic Youth.
Elk City do their thing well, but even the ho-hum photos of their pedals and equipment remind music junkies that this stuff's been done before. I recommend this disc for those iffy days without zeniths or nadirs when you can't tell the avatars from the minions. Warning, though: anyone driven crazy by vague "it"'s that don't modify anything had better get ready for lyrics such as "The way it seemed to go/ It was time." When it comes down to it, it's really what makes it what it is, isn't it?
