Review Summary: Lame? Check. Obnoxious? Check. Gimmicky? Check. Fun as hell? Check.
Eric Nally went to an all black high school. Technically there were two other white kids, but Mr. Nally still was majorly influenced by his black peers. Amidst being jealous of their superior skills in general, he developed an appreciation for their musical pride and joy – namely soul. He eventually even started a band named after their slang term for cool shoes – Foxy Shazam. After recruiting highly experienced pianist Schuyler Vaughn White, the eccentric post-hardcore outfit was ready to take on the world with their soul-inspired pop-laced songs. It’s a formula for success, but it often loses momentum from awkward song structures and flat out obnoxious moments.
Vocalist Nally is the very first thing you hear as debut album
The Flamingo Trigger begins with a simple and catchy keyboard romp accompanying a few short blasts from the rest of the band. You know what you’re in for from the very beginning: upbeat and poppy but sometimes spastic keyboard driven post-hardcore madness. Think Glassjaw with Stevie Wonder playing keyboards as well as being very involved in the songwriting process. It’s very easy to love the first few times you listen to it simply because of how fun it is. “No! Don’t Shoot!” relies on a 50s rock-esque bass line that will get even your grandparents (or parents if you’re like me and you have old parents) to move their toes. That is, until the goofy breakdown consisting of the lyrics
EEE OOOh aaaah. bigity bigity boooo! come roaring through the speakers in one of the album’s “heavier” moments. In addition to being the backbone of the song, the bass is also mixed loud enough to hear, and it’s the reason why the music is effective in many cases throughout the record; in this song, it acts as the driving catchiness during the verses, and as the prominent low end to give the breakdown that extra punch.
Unfortunately, the mixing of all instruments vary wildly song to song, probably because the band produced the album on what (at times) sounds like a pretty skimpy budget. The closing song, “Shadow of a Shoulder Parrot” in particular is the victim of awful production, whether the band intended it or not. The fact that it’s a ho-hum piano ballad with grating vocals doesn’t help either. The band seem to follow the inconsistency of the production; one moment they are firing on all cylinders, pumping out attetntion-demanding “soulcore” (“The French Passion of Animality Opera”), and the next they more or less fall apart from trying too hard to mix styles or just from flat out awkwardness (“Sailors Over Rhinoceros Bay”). The general eccentricness seeps out of every corner of the band, sometimes getting the best of the songwriting; it seems as if they get lazy with it and just fall back on their unique appeal instead of writing complete songs. For example, by the time “My Wife's Juice and Water Tower Wine” comes around, it brings nothing new to the album; it’s a boring slow-burner that’s only noted for its inclusion of keyboards, which you’ve heard already (and possibly sick of) by this point in the album.
It’s because of these glaring weaknesses that the album ends up having less replay value than it initially implies. While it is certainly fun in short bursts, it’s also probably just as easy to get tired of it as it is to love it. They’re good at what they do, but as with most bands that largely rely on a single gimmicky (or original – whatever you want to call it) element, you can only spin the album so many times before it loses its appeal. I would say they are definitely on to something, but they haven’t fully developed it yet. They opted to expand on their pop influence with the new record, a move that probably suits them better because they didn’t have to try so hard to achieve their goal: to be obnoxious, lame, and most of all, fun.
Awesome album is awesome...
