Holy shit, I think my gimmick lobe just ruptured. Like the digital readout from Windows Hypemaster 7.0, The Raveonettes come to the land of the free not only as Scandinavians (they're from Denmark, which I'm pretty sure is part of Scandinavia), but as a male/female duo with an ambiguous relationship. I hear they play that rock music that "Good Morning America" told me is back! The record industry's PR drones were speaking in tongues when this little package landed in their stereo.
To be fair, I'm sure The Raveonettes aren't a calculated amalgamation of all the currently profitable garage-rock storylines, though if they were to reveal that they're actually from Denmark, Nebraska, I wouldn't be too shocked. Authenticity or no, the fact remains that Sune Rose Wagner and Sharin Foo are practically the embodiment of SPIN's "Return of the Rock" issue, right down to their loose, trashy sound, detached vocals, and penchant for paint-by-numbers garage-rock titles like "Beat City" and "Cops on Our Tail".
Whip It On! follows the in-vogue S.O.P. for buzz generation, a quick shot of eight songs over a brisk twenty-one minutes, infuriating space-minded burner jockeys everywhere. Wagner's guitar provides buzz of a different kind, kicking up a clanging racket to fill in all the empty spaces left by this two-piece. Like the overdrive-filled tantrums of, say, Yo La Tengo's Ira Kaplan, Wagner can play pretty much any simple, surf-inflected riff and make it sound like a choir loft of TVs tuned to static. It's the kind of guitar sound that obviously took a long time to master; certainly a lot more time than The Raveonettes appear to have spent on their songs. Here's a play-by-play window into my listening:
Tracks 5-8: "Are these slight tempo changes supposed to keep me from realizing this is still the same damn song?"
Not even an eight-song mini-album can hide that The Raveonettes are no Bruce Hornsby when it comes to playing with range. "Attack of the Ghost Riders" has all the crunch and hard rhythm one would expect from a comic book title, and when Wagner utters "it goes something like this" and coaxes out a one-chord maelstrom-- notice I'm keeping it Scandinavian-real here-- it sounds like the band's really got their finger on the pulse of the G-word. "Veronica Fever" and "Do You Believe Her" keep hype hope alive, the former a quieter kind of fuzzed-out, early-90s drone, the latter a monster truck blowtorch with the unavoidable Man or Astroman? surf-beat stomp (surprisingly, supplied by a drum machine).
From there, the enjoyment curve takes a steep turn downwards, starting with "Cops on Our Tail", which sounds exactly like "Do You Believe Her" played at half-speed. The rest of the album follows suit, beset by the Xeroxed nature of Wagner and Foo's not-quite-harmonious vocals; their sleepy singing sounds like it's hiding behind the amps. One starts to wonder if all the Jesus & Mary Chain comparisons flying around The Raveonettes aren't due to their J&MC-like; tendency to write the same song over and over again, as well as their ability to kick up a right good wall of white noise.
Maybe it's my weak spot for Scandinavians, but I'm not ready to start praying for the humiliating failure of The Raveonettes. It's more than possible that Whip It On! is just a glorified promo-mix to start an NYC feeding frenzy, but if so, that's a goal it accomplished admirably (eh, Mr. Fricke?). While their limitations seem to preclude the chances of next year's promised full-length being much of a Powerball jackpot, interviews indicate their hearts are in the right place, promising a 60s girl-group influence that doesn't quite rise to the top on this octet of tunes. It's certainly going take a lot to shake the cynicism their back-story currently provokes; we'll have to wait and see if these Danes are up to the challenge.
