Vulture Whale
Vulture Whale
Rating: 3.0
Label: Skybucket Records
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Sometimes simplicity pays off. The energetic Birmingham, Alabama quartet Vulture Whale offers a narrow palette of colors, but they’re well rehearsed at painting inside the lines. Their self-titled sophomore album is a tight set much in the same vein of their debut. Rockabilly-influenced licks roll over crunching garage-rock chords, along with a punk overtone that prevents the band from falling into the pretensions of Southern rock.
Vulture Whale’s intention on this album is impossible to miss: they’re here to play loud music. Tracks like “Teedy,” “Thought Eyes” and “Head Turner” make it evident the amps are turned up to 12. But amidst the straightforward, fist-pumping romps is a keen sense of melody; “Head Turner” in particular is equally catchy as anything KROQ has recently promoted, while the mid-tempo “Sugar” is a rather abrasive ballad that retains a shimmering melody within its hard-hitting rhythm section. “Sum Young Scientist” sounds ripped from the pages of 1990s alternative rock, while the bouncy “Guillotine,” with its frantic jangly guitar riffs and one-two drumbeat, sounds like the White Stripes snorted lines of rockabilly before a recording session.
The album’s second half slightly deviates into Vulture Whale’s more country-tinged personality, for better and worse. “Tote it to Cleveland, AL” represents the band’s more ambitious side, seamlessly hovering between upbeat verses and angst-ridden choruses. The band does a great Tom Petty sing-a-long emulation on “The Waves.” Still, the sloppiness of “What Do” challenges the band’s tight-knit chemistry. Clumsy drums clash with an off-key southern drawl and a half-baked guitar lick, though the band regains its composure in the final two songs. Aside from these sporadic missteps, frontman Wes McDonald’s scratchy vocals never fail to complement the bluesy chord progressions.
Though not a motley album, Vulture Whale spins like a solid Friday night set at a bar. The lyrics, which rarely move past lines about a man’s basic interests and desires, fit the gig: “Drink a beer/ Make yourself at home/ Can I get anybody a beer/ Let’s get wasted/ Get a contact high/ Get in contact with the guy/ Who’s gonna rent us the boat,” McDonald sings on closing track “Ever Body.” The band may not display the most profound musical imagination around, but they never intended to in the first place. So crank your stereo, crack open some beers, and invite some friends over. And don’t forget to take a Tylenol. You’ll thank yourself after bopping your head all night.
by Jory Spadea
