Right hand up, raise your first and fourth digits in the air boys and girls. It’s time to rawk. Ish.
If such a thing as an emo band name generator existed (it might, but I’m not prepared to put the time and effort into finding out), the Takoma Star is surely a moniker that it would belch out. Without listening to a note, you kind of know what to expect.
This is British emo, as previously presented by the likes of other training-bra bands like Biffy Clyro and Funeral For a Friend. The sound would be described as epic, I guess, complete with Americanised vocals that seem inexplicable from a band in Essex. The likes of Future of the Left have proved that when you make rock music you don’t automatically develop an American drawl, so with that myth dispelled it remains hard to understand why it happens so often in this genre. This Americanism puts up an instant barrier to enjoying the music, because it sounds false, like it’s a karaoke thing or one game of Rock Band gone too far.
‘Stockholm’ sounds like Sum 41 with jet-lag, that nasal life’s not fair because I’m only having one birthday party this year brand of over-privileged whining. ‘College Girlfriend’ is reminiscent of Feeder, a band who may well be responsible for the lineage of dreary, brit-rock that leads to this album. ‘Base Camp’ is one of the most atypical college cock-rock songs that was every created. It’s accessible but essentially diluted. It all feels quite manufactured.
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In defence of this album, there are some neat instrumentals (like on ‘Heartache at the End’) and the noodling is both comprehensive and accomplished. The tunes themselves are unremarkable enough, but they are played well and they are distinguishable from each other. It’s well produced and it’s tight.
For fledgling rock fans it’ll probably sound very, very important. It’s possible to see how this could be wildly popular to people other than me. They’ll grow out of it, but it’s a start.
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