Will rock fans ever find a sub-genre capable of making them bust a move? Since the start of this decade, the music world has been searching for the perfect hybrid of thrashing guitars and gyrating bodies. First came electroclash, a scene doomed for failure thanks to nu-wave roots and a futuristic goth dress code. Then dancepunk, a promising sound turned belly-up due to an abundance of bands who had no idea what they were doing. So, what’s the latest effort in fusing the fist-pumping awesomeness of rock and roll with the bone-movin’ quality of dance music? New rave, a movement aimed at bringing the glow stick and ecstasy-stained raves of the 1990’s to CGBG.
At the forefront of this scene sits Britain’s Klaxons. Debuting last year with the very impressive Xan Valleys EP, the trio promoted themselves as the first new rave band. After proclaiming themselves parents of the genre, Klaxons unleash their proper debut Myths of the Near Future, a frantic and fuzzy trip of an album. Those hoping Klaxon’s first album will change the face of danceable music forever better keep looking for a revolutionary record. But people wanting a solid rock album won’t be disappointed by Myths.
The biggest pitfall of the “new rave” venture is what the term even refers to. Klaxon’s songs don’t capture the frenetic nuttiness of techno music, central to the rave experience. But what the 11 songs on Myths do replicate is the sense of the rave’s most prevalent illegal substance. I’ve never been on ecstasy, but I’m fairly certain if I ever popped the stuff I would start seeing the images that Klaxons sing about over the course of the album. The band talks about all sorts of spacey images, from “five fallable flags in hypersonic” to horses wanting to dance but unable to do so due to broken wings. Listening to Myths is like taking a tour of some alien zoo floating among the furthest reaches of the cosmos, all while gliding along a rainbow made of light sticks.
Sonically, Klaxons use this science fiction technique frequently. “Atlantis to Interzone” employs a siren straight from a Star Destroyer behind a rushing guitar line, before hitting light speed midway through. It’s one of Myths most furious tracks and one of the album’s highlights, thanks to the sound effects. Later on, “Forgotten Works” pummels ahead through waves of stardust and handclaps, while “It’s Not Over Yet” creates a feeling of desperation employs a squealing guitar to offset the delusional shouts of “it’s not over/not over/not over yet/you still want me, don’t you?”
But Klaxons overuse of off-rhythm guitar stabs and otherwordly sounds bog down several songs and completely ruins one tune. On last year’s Xan Valleys EP, “Gravity’s Rainbow” stood out as killer: an exhilarating, breathless love song, Klaxon’s best work and one of the year’s finest singles. For Myth, the trio decided to rerecord “Gravity’s Rainbow,” and, like a rave patron who has had one too many tabs of ectasy, didn’t know when to stop. The fierce guitar line anchoring the song remains, and sounds just as awesome as ever. But Klaxons heap on occasional off-kilter string scratches, distracting from what made the original recording so great: the song’s no-distractions rock focus. The chorus suffers the greatest transgression. Whereas the original song stuck with the same guitar riff, this incarnation of “Gravity’s Rainbow” slows the sound down, wrapping the chorus in a Twilight Zone-like cosmic fuzz, throwing off the song’s original force. The new version of “Gravity’s Rainbow” is Klaxons’ biggest misstep of their young career.
The band sounds most triumphant when they ignore the sci-fi schtick and just rock out. Klaxons put on their best Blur impression on “Isle of Her,” a slice of Britpop with the added twist of Viking-like chants. Myths‘ best track is lead single “Golden Skans,” a gorgeous piece of pop. Opening with a barrage of pretty “ooos” and “ahhhs,” “Skans” quickly transforms into a riveting rock song. The group’s lyrics, usually “out there,” are grounded in reality, as the they sadly croon “Light touch my hand/in a dream of Golden Skans/from now on/you can forget our future plans.” The song alternates between the melancholic chorus, slower sung intervals and periods of gorgeous harmonizing. “Golden Skans” shows why the young British band deserves so much acclaim: their ability to create highly danceable numbers using lush guitars sounds.
The whole “new rave” concept is nothing more than a cheap way for the British press to hype up more bands and hold another themed tour, but Klaxons shouldn’t be persecuted for being lumped into this lame group. The trio show great promise on Myths as rock and roll artists plenty capable of getting hips to shake on the floor.