18 Class Clown Spots a UFO
Interestingly, my review of Let's Go Eat The Factory provoked the most divisive comments that I've seen so far. Not particularly regarding my review itself, but opinion seemed very polarised about the 'reunion' albums. 'All reunion records belong at the very bottom of the rankings,' commented Matthew M Leclaire on the Facebook group. On the other hand, Rob Shepherd averred that, 'For me, the 6 album run that starts here is absolute perfection.'
I am - for now - keeping myself distant from the context of the band's history, so I'm not fully cogniscent of the reasons for these strong views. My approach is, as Matt Harnish noted, to '[go] in with no expectations whatsoever and just listen.'
As noted in the previous post, we're rapidly approaching the end of the LPs that I've had on rotation; as a result, this was another that I didn't know that well before settling down to give it a focused listen...
The Album
No pulling on the leash
For several albums in a row now, the opening track has featured as one of my choice cuts, and Class Clown continues that run. 'He Rises! Our Union Bellboy' is not only a fantastic title in the GBV tradition, but it careers along with abrasive energy, relentlessly flailed chords propping up a melody that's not quite as grandiose and moving as it wants to be but still provides a stirring intro. The lyric falls into familiar 'no idea what it's about but there's plenty of abstract imagery to enjoy' territory: 'He makes the puzzles piece / plus no surprises / no pulling on the leash / for hips and rises.'
It's followed by the entertainingly oddball 'Blue Babbleships Bay', a rollicking merger of Diamond Dogs-era Bowie with lurching Beefheart-esque blues. However, the choicest cut of all comes right at the end with 'No Transmission', a furious whirl of post-punk turbulence that crackles with compelling intensity.
In the secondary tier, we have 'Tyson's High School', a distorted psych-rock lope with an aggressive attitude and touches of Hendrix and Revolver. 'The Opposite Continues' boasts a nicely murky riff and urgently bluesy guitar fills. Taking things down a notch, 'Be Impeccable' casts a tentative, melancholy melody over spare, lonely chords and has the awkwardly charming hook, 'I'll shine my flashlight to where you are.'
Perfectly serviceable
Several of the tracks are perfectly serviceable pieces of uptempo pop-punk / garage rock but feel just a little bit 'phoned in'. The sub-minute tuneful thrash of 'Roll Of The Dice, Kick In The Head' almost feels like it could have fitted in on Bee Thousand or Alien Lanes, but doesn't quite have the abandoned abrasion. Swapping punk-pop fizz for something more portentous and angular, 'Worm w/ 7 Broken Hearts' comes closer to capturing that spirit.
'Billy Wire' chugs and churns energetically, but feels somewhat routine other than in its fractured mid-song breakdown. With its admirably snotty attitude, 'Hang Up And Try Again' sounds like Nirvana covering an early Blondie track. Despite the experimental finale, there's an air of predictability about it.
Dream fingers
At times, the album seems a little short on inspiration. The layers of synth strings can't disguise the fact that 'Forever Until It Breaks' is a rather thin idea; it plods along disconsolately, only partially rescued by the tender, hesitant vocal. The disconcertingly mis-synched double-tracked drums only add to the sense of lethargy. There's also little going on lyrically to sustain its three-minute length, even though 'staring at all our waste and staring at all the corpsmen' is an arresting turn of phrase.
The minute-long 'Fighter Pilot' feels like a throwaway snippet of a studio jam that might just about have been serviceable as a light-hearted run-out track. Here, it sits in the middle of the album, not acting - as is often the case with some of the earlier albums - as any sort of coherent link between the songs either side of it. There is at least a fairly catchy chorus to 'Jon The Croc', but the verse is flat and lifeless; it's also a lyric that's uncharacteristically humdrum.
The acoustic tracks also fall a little flat. 'Chain To The Moon' has a reasonably memorable melody, but again comes as more 'unfinished idea' than 'intriguing fragment'. The opening lines of 'Fly Baby' ('Dream fingers flipping the me-first machine') are more like the level of wordplay I've come to expect, but, although the song brings a touch of elegiac melancholy, it also has an unusually forgettable melody.
Primly saccharine
I'm not implacably wedded to the idea of every GBV album only featuring crunchy, ragged garage rock and bursts of abrasive, experimental abstraction; I'm happily open to moments of gentle introspection and/or poppy whimsy. That said, for me, too much of Class Clown is just a little... twee.
Title track 'Class Clown Spots A UFO' is startlingly jaunty, with a C86 vibe that sounds like a US college rock take on the June Brides or Belle & Sebastian. It's awash with sunshine and uplifting joy, replete with Byrdsian jangle and an irrepressible earworm chorus. Which is absolutely fine; however, the other tracks to plough this furrow are less successful.
There are more jangly arpeggios on 'All Of This Will Go', but it's all a bit lightweight and workaday and sounds like a late-period Teenage Fanclub outtake. Once again, I find myself a little disappointed by the prosaic lyric: 'It's getting harder to take this I know / waiting to see how your garden will grow / it's just we're freezing and staring at all of this snow.'
This lack of lyrical inspiration is also present in 'Keep It In Motion' and 'Starfire'. Both are also distinctinctly thin musically, featuring a repetitive, primly saccharine melody. 'They And Them' is a cosily, aimlessly soporific hymn; 'Lost In Spaces' is an insipid tribute to 1980s Roger Waters.
Like Let's Go Eat The Factory, there's a certain 'what will they sound like next' thrill to Class Clown Spots a UFO. It veers between styles with commendable enthusaism. And there are a handful of cracking songs, plus a few that show laudable ambition, even if the execution is not always 100% successful.
Overall, however, there are some notable shortcomings. It's without doubt the least impressive album lyrically so far, with far too many tracks lacking the invention I've come to expect. With regards to the music itself, whilst making notes as I listened to it, the words 'flimsy', 'throwaway', 'lightweight' and 'twee' cropped up with disappointing regularity.
At times, there seems to be an effort to capture the lo-fi spirit and ambition of the mid-90s. However, the shorter tracks simply don't work in the same way as they did back then; rather than feeling like part of a carefully curated sequence, they have a certain 'let's just stick that there' air to them.
- He Rises! Our Union Bellboy
- Blue Babbleships Bay
- No Transmission
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