Ryan Allen isn't a girl, he just happens to sing like one. The Thunderbirds Are Now! frontman plays up his vocal femininity and vamps all over Justamustache, belting out exhortative non-sequiturs like Tim Harrington impersonating Exene Cervenka. Prototypically feminine vocalization allows for a broader range than the less subtle masculine style, and you'll find Allen cooing, yelping, sighing, wailing, and ranting, but reining it in just enough to avoid the overweening brattiness of, say, Beep Beep.
Justamustache is Thunderbirds Are Now!'s second full length, but it smacks so strongly of a new start that we might as well consider it their first. The Detroit quartet have mostly abandoned the labyrinthine meters and abrasive textures of their spaz-punk roots, retaining only their penchant for variety. Now their songs tend toward lambent melodies, cyclically striated guitars, and galloping disco-punk rhythms, and are usually comprised of several potential choruses.
The raucous "198090 (Aquatic Cupids)" demonstrates this focused miscellany, quickly shuffling through succinct hooks. "Harpoons of Love" follows and is more direct, jumping out as the album's other instant attention-getter; its reeled-off lyrics and quick changes call to mind a new wave version of Blood Brothers. Spitting drum machines, neon-tinted synths, corkscrewing guitar lines, and shout-a-long refrains sustain the record's teetering glide across 10 sleek yet pockmarked tracks.
Allen cites Les Savy Fav as a major influence, and Justamustache evokes a poppier, starker take on that band's Go Forth. This is particularly apparent in the guitar playing, which shades Gang of Four's Andy Gill's expressive, staccato slashing into LSF's Seth Jabour's melodically complex stutters and coasts, sharply contrasting sinewy rhythms with fanning sprays of squealing notes.
"Better Safe Than Safari" sends the album rocketing out of the gate with this hectic formula, its relentlessly thumping low end and bright synths holding it together like skin. "Eat This City" juxtaposes rapidly ascending electronic tones and runaway clatter with a late solo that's pure, wafting Jabour Zen. "To: Skulls" and "From: Skulls" sound like guitars rehearsing long-since dropped conversations to themselves, synthesizers attempting to speak like humans.
With their signing to the influential Frenchkiss label, their stylistic quantum leap, and their dancepunk steez, Thunderbirds Are Now! are in a good position to earn some attention. If they gain entry into the new new wave winner's circle, we'll all be doing a lot of reading about Gang of Four this year...again. It makes for drag reviews (only so many ways to say "great energy-- classic post-punk with a modern twist!"), but it's a hell of a good time. I'll take it.
