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They completely won me over and I found myself grinning along with, and nodding my head to, this four-piece from Claremont, Los Angeles. Initially, vocalist Ezra Buchla’s (Gowns) manic high-pitched voice and delivery did nothing for me except grate. Over time though, I gradually came to realise that it fit seamlessly into the general tenor of the music exhibited here. There is a lot of mayhem too, spread over 14 tracks infused with great handfuls of joyful abandon. It’s even something of a concept album. With song-titles of the likes of “Lamb and Lion,” “Leech and Locust,” Book of Numbers,” and “Divine Harvest,” it’s not hard to discern what the theme that glues this album together is. Even so, even with its references to God, Jesus, and souls, I am not entirely sure whether this is a punk album with Christian overtones or vice versa. Either way, it doesn’t make much difference in actuality, the sheer exuberance being broadcast from here can indeed be picked up by anyone, whether secular or otherwise.
The band rely on the tried and trusted formula of guitar, keyboards, bass, and drums, racing through most of the songs at a break-neck pace, the majority of the songs lasting no more than the standard two to three minutes. There a few exceptions to the rule, including what is the one stand out track for me, the eleven-and-a-half minute “Kingdom Come.” Bizarrely this is actually totally unrepresentative of the album as a whole, being something of an exercise in dance-floor aesthetics. It still distils the melodic essence of The Mae Shi for all that, but adds a hugely funky vibe, ladling in plenty of danceable hooks that seem to have been culled from their repertoire. In amongst the general manic gleefulness this probably compresses the most irrepressible optimism and upbeat happiness into every square second of playing time than the rest of the album.
Listening to Buchla’s voice reminded me of no-one so much as a young Perry Farrell at times, circa the first Jane’s Addiction album, albeit with an amphetamine-fortified delivery appended to it. All the songs are replete with lashings of vocal harmonies complementing the melodies, and for all the world give the impression of being either a ramped up version of the Beach Boys or a choirful of stressed-out gospel singers. None better example of this can be found than in the infectious footstomper “Young Marks,” a keyboard and drum-fuelled beast that swept me up and carried me headlong to heaven-knows-where. The thing is I wouldn’t have cared if that had actually happened. If this is indeed a ‘Christian-punk’ album (although there’s no indication either way) then it appears that they have overdosed on the grace imparted to them and now they want everybody else to share it. I can almost imagine them foaming at the mouth and staring glassy-eyed in their ecstasy, judging from some of the songs at least. In fact, I seriously don’t know whether to trust or fear these people.
Regardless, this is a hopelessly upbeat and melodic album, crammed with all the necessary disarmingly tuneful hooks to draw one into their fold. Furthermore, the spirit (in a musical sense) of this album is so incurably infectious it was hard to resist its pull. For me at least, there was no better test of its quality than whether my head would nod or my foot would tap along to it. On this occasion there was plenty of both.
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