President Bush has proven that he doesn't know much about science, but he may have been onto something with his infamous non-sequitur about the danger of human/animal chimeras in this year's State of the Union Address. Cross-species breeding may not be a concern in a genetic research sense-- the threat of ligers and geeps (those are goats crossed with sheep, look it up) is certainly not impending-- but in musical terms, chimeras are something we should very much be cautious about. Playing Dr. Moreau with the DNA of different musical genres has been a pastime of many successful musicians throughout the years, but for every triumph of style fusion, there have been untold scores of laboratory failures.
These cautionary facts are worth remembering in our brave new world, where the blurring of the lines between rock and electronic has become common practice. In the current nth revival of dancepunk and new wave, it's easy to be tricked into thinking that this process is without consequences, with the various sounds fitting together as snugly as jigsaw. But merely combining two genres' trademarks doesn't ensure that you'll get the best of both worlds; without a fair amount of skill and luck, that fancy new hybrid turns out to merely reflect the shortcomings of each world.
The majority of electro-rock act Whitey's The Light at the End of the Tunnel is a Train is testament to this warning, as it tries to stitch together a thrilling rock-that-dances/dance-that-rocks chimera, but often ends up merely reinforcing the most stereotypical complaints about each genre. The resulting beast isn't so much an aesthetic affront as it is an uninteresting mutt, too often accidentally combining the repetition of the most routine electronic music with the predictability of textbook rock. Basing most of his songs on live drums and decorating them with riffs and power chords adds a crunchy outer layer to Whitey's electronic innards, but these elements end up being more of a restriction than an embellishment, bringing only rhythmic simplicity and dusty sonics.
It's not that The Light at the End of the Tunnel doesn't yield several scraps of intriguing ideas as part of its merger, like the Marc Bolandroid swagger of "Non Stop" or the spy-movie acid-bass of "Tantrum". But all too often the songs don't constitute anything beyond a decent sound looped ad nauseum: "Can't Go Out, Can't Stay In" sounds like one line of "Little Honda" skipping in its groove, and songs like "Halfway Done" and "In the Limelight" are riddled with mantra-like melodies. With the early exception of "Leave Them All Behind", which paces itself nicely on the way through a series of peaks and valleys, many of the songs are content to run on a treadmill, with little of the tension/release that marks the appealing best of both his constituent genres.
Maybe with Whitey becoming a familiar face on the remix circuit, it's not surprising that his own material often sounds more like a collection of parts readymade for the remix chop shop rather than finished models. The record can't overcome its genetic predisposition as a producer's album, more concerned with sound and texture than melodic payoff. Therein lies the danger of the chimera: When the creator becomes so enamored with the technique, he forgets about the potential shortcomings of the end product.
