The Explicits- The Explicits

Genre metal Publisher Explicit Records External Links The Explicits MySpace

Hey, remember Brody Dalle? Yeah, me neither. I guess it's okay, then, that 20-year-old Renee Phoenix from The Explicits seems to have picked up where Dalle left off being the gravel-throated frontwoman/rhythm guitarist for a vengeful, take-no-prisoners band that punk purists would scorn as too poppy while simultaneously the hangers-on cling to them as an excuse to grow a Mohawk.

It has to be said; the similarities are considerably more than vague. "Idiopath" comes a little too close to "Coral Fang". But whatever - it ain't like there are a glut of strong, snarling women on the hard rock scene, so I'll let it go. Let's focus on what sets The Explicits apart on this, their eponymous debut, eh?

For one, there's an impressive melding of punk and metal in a way that forgoes the expected product of thrash for a sexier, raunchier rock: it's fuck-you attitude matching wits with post-nu metal rhythm, and where the twain shall meet, the listener will be stunned. It's not often that one hears ruthless, tommy-gun double-bass drums holding down a jangly but harsh 3-chorder. And let me tell you, it's something altogether disconcerting. Not in an entirely bad sense, though, just in one that makes you cock your head and squint in confusion the way you might if your goldfish started speaking, or if you found Gisele Bundchen in your fridge - it's unexpected and you're struck with a sense of discord, but it's not such a terrible thing. In fact, you're intrigued.

The two sounds are so infrequently found canoodling that they initially appear to be at irreparable odds with one another. True, they are a little jarring in such close proximity, but that's more the specific implementation of them than the concept of them used together - that implementation being a bit overzealous; it's a new formula and apparently needs to have some kinks worked out. As genre-fusing goes, this is a novel combination whereby skinsman Jarrod Welsh avoids the usual trap punk drummers fall into of being hard hitters but not exactly innovators. It's a bit sloppy, but it's their first stab at recording, so it'll be interesting to see what comes of these guys after having more time to refine their songwriting and instrumental interplay.

As for the rest of it all: guitarist Kevin Vu and bassist Noah Ray are hardly hacks. On "Static," Vu lays waste to a solo informed by NWOBHM, and on "No Remorse," Ray makes a point of reminding us that bassists are not simply background musicians. Phoenix has an impressive growl, but when she really lays it on it's a bit too much; too contrived- she does better to sing in a cleaner voice, like on "Over It," where she sounds more comfortable and the juxtaposition with the blastbeat drumming has a more dramatic effect.

The album as a whole is refreshingly dark- a much-needed antidote to the surfeit of poppy curfew-breakers currently passing for punk bands. It's difficult to say there's a losing song in the bunch; every last one is an airtight melee of aggressive syncopation that leaves little room for criticism. The production here is clean and glossy, the songs are short and punchy; I imagine it won't be long before we start seeing much more of Phoenix and her team of crust-hessian overlords.