Review Summary: Lightning in a bottle. That is, a Special Edition, Comic-Con exclusive bottle.
Formed in 2009, Shael Riley and the Double Ice Backfire are a North American Nerdcore group who can boast, if nothing else, what is certainly one of the most unwieldy band names in the history of recorded music. The trio, consisting of Shael Riley (vocals, programming, songwriting), Ty Guenley (guitar, programming) and Ricky Henry (songwriting, drum arrangements), first made a name for itself within the Nerd music subculture after dropping the well-received Songs from the Pit cassette at the 2009 convention of Nerdapalooza. The hype generated by that mixtape encouraged the band to set their sights on composing a professionally mastered follow-up, and they subsequently conducted a successful Kickstarter campaign throughout the following year, out of which Ultimate Songs from the Pit was assembled.
In sonic terms, the album is composed from chiptunes, an aesthetic similar to that of synthpop, in that it takes its instrumental elements from digital rather than conventional musical equipment. More precisely, the band's sound lies within the Nintendocore subgenre, its instrumentation being wholly culled from the sound chips of the Nintendo Entertainment System and its sister consoles. Whilst the music of their most significant contemporaries - I Fight Dragons - is best described as chip-rock with significant pop tendencies, the Backfire's sound approaches something more accurately labelled guitar-drenched chip-pop. It is also worth noting at this point that the album's instrumentals are, to put it plainly, sublime. Whilst the beats of lesser works within the genre often sound intrusive, tacked on, or blatantly come over as a not-so-subtle appeal to 80's and 90's era videogame nostalgia, the instrumental elements here surpass the familiar generic stereotypes entirely. Each soundscape is a fascinating composition in its own right, exquisitely re-imagined to the extent that you often entirely forget it is hackneyed from a games console, and put together, the instrumentals could conceivably form a highly compelling instrumental album on their own merits.
And this is in no way to detract from the vocal elements. Prior to recording the album, frontman Shael Riley had been a frequent contributor to the online music community OCR remix, as well as a member of the Hip-Hop ensemble The Grammar Club, and his songwriting prowess is palpable. In addition to presenting entirely rearranged versions of the eight tracks from the Songs from the Pit mixtape, the album also included the same number of new tracks. All these tracks however, feel part of a larger thematic vision, the album's lyrics collectively exploring themes of alienation, the frustrations of sexual desire, and feelings of ennui, contextualized from a gamer's perspective.
Although they are understandably not equivalent to the greatest of Springsteen's or Dylan's, Riley's lyrics unmistakeably form a significant addition to that same tradition of great American songwriters. There is a pervasive sense of a common persona throughout the course of this set of tracks, the album often finding profound lyrical inspiration within its nerdy outlook at the modern world. Although darkly narcissistic, especially in the cases of 'Publishing Rights' and 'Rarest of Elements', these lyrics frequently succeed in leading to affecting moments of cautious optimism. 'Haters Unite', for example, manages to find a curious sense of elation through its narration of the life of a dispossessed gamer, resulting in an almost anthemic refrain that defies circumstance, and exults instead in the principle of self-determination. Yet whilst fairly political, the album never seems didactic in its exploration of these themes, exhibiting a compellingly droll take on its range of subject matters.
I'll leave some illustrative lyrics from 'Hobby Model' here:
'I saw this Hip-hop documentary
that featured a woman who was a rapper in theory.
Although her record label
had signed no acts. What it
lacked in musicianship it
more than made up for in
ass crack.
She fine she in
this movie.
Shake it, shake it, shake that thing
we'll forget that you don't sing.'
The guest features, of which there are four, are almost unanimously great too, and are drawn from right across the Nerdcore scene. There are verses here from Schaffer the Darklord, Brian Mazzaferri of I Fight Dragons quasi-fame, Billy the Fridge, and Mega Ran, the latter in particular delivering an almost career-topping set of bars. Additionally, one song - 'Actual Conspiracy' - is a cover of a Benjamin Bear song from the album Everything Left, yet somehow manages to wrest even more emotion into its delivery than the original does.
The album is resilient enough to analysis that I could continue in my praise of it almost indefinitely, and attempt to explain how clever the Mortal Kombat-referencing 'tip eht fo mottob' is, etc., but this is the internet, and I'm aware that you must have other sites to browse, so I'll conclude.
In terms of the album's shortcomings, I'll note that the tone of the last two tracks makes them both feel like they could easily have been closers, and this makes the inclusion of both of them feel somewhat redundant, however the sequencing is otherwise impeccable, with the album rather relentlessly pulling you from one track to another for 56 minutes. Additionally, it may put some listeners off that the album is rather low-fi, although this is a stylistic choice in itself - think Ariel Pink's Pom Pom. It's also worth noting that 'Publishing Rights' is a shade weaker than most of the material on here, sounding perhaps a bit too gritty, and Riley's high-pitched and somewhat nasal vocal delivery may also put some listeners off.
These criticisms really are nitpicking however. This is a fantastic, and yet almost completely undiscovered album, one that the band were unfortunate never to achieve mainstream popularity or commercial success with. As the album itself asserts though, 'Success is just a smile over substance away'...
