When I got to work this morning, someone sent me a Facebook reel of the Manchester City players, AI-generated, singing Fall Out Boy’s “Sugar, We’re Goin Down”. Apparently, this is what we’re doing with technology now.
It set me thinking about the appetite for guitar nostalgia. Exactly when did the 90s revival happen, and why wasn’t I informed? The other day, I was reviewing Harker, a band rooted in that sound. Dexter and The Moonrocks, meanwhile, supposedly one of America’s big breakout acts, couldn’t sound more like clubbing at Snobs in Birmingham in 1999 if they tried.
“Don’t Wanna Be High” establishes that feeling straight away. There’s something immediately familiar about it, and “Mull It Over” has the same loud/quiet dynamic that seemed to underpin everything back then. You know where these songs are coming from, but there’s catharsis in “Said What I Said” that gives the familiarity some purpose. This stuff still works when someone sounds like they need to get it out.
The ballads, too, seem straight out of those nights. “Why Don’t You Say So” features the brilliant Avery Anna, a favourite of ours on this site, and her voice carries so much of it. She brings something extra to a record which otherwise spends a good deal of its time with the weight of the world on its shoulders.
“It’s A Lot” is a case in point. You do know what he means, though. That sense of everything piling up runs through the album, and someone cleverer than me will probably call “Complacent” sadcore, or something equally useful. Whatever the terminology, there’s no shortage of hurt here. “Let It Hurt” adds to the relationship damage, and by “12 Steps” the fallout has driven him towards drugs.
That one features Treaty Oak Revival, whose presence changes the vocal flavour slightly, but the things that make these songs work remain consistent: the choruses and the lead guitar. “Under The Weather” keeps those priorities in place, while the guitar tone on “Space Invader” does an awful lot of the heavy lifting. It’s the sort of sound that can make a familiar idea feel compelling all over again.
“Freakin’ Out” barely restrains itself as he sings about taking pills and sleeping in his car. There’s a lot being unloaded throughout this record, and here the music seems particularly close to spilling over with it.
By the time track 14, “Outro (Is DeMar DeRozan Dexter?)”, arrives, another thought occurs. For all we’re told that the modern audience doesn’t listen to albums, here’s a proper, lengthy record from a band who seem fully immersed in making one. There’s commitment in that, and in the amount they’re prepared to put into these songs.
By the late 90s I’d moved on (although I loved Jimmy Eat World), so I was never the biggest fan of this stuff, but the tunes sparkle, the choruses sparkle even more, and there’s enough to chew on between them to keep it interesting. Dexter and The Moonrocks have plenty on their minds. They’ve also remembered to give you something to sing.
Rating: 7/10
