Growing up — partially, anyway — in small-town Idaho was quite the trip, to say the least. I found myself surrounded by kids who were, in the words of my neighbor’s car-mechanic dad, “tuff 's fuuuck.” Strangely, the TRULY bad-ass kids weren’t prototypically stocky and broad-shouldered. Defying all logic, the toughest sons a’ bitches I came across were skinny and slight of frame. They were also exceedingly quiet and mild-mannered. However, if you crossed them, you’d quickly find out how little size matters when it comes to playground scrapping. Or football, for that matter; I once saw a childhood friend, Clayton, drag a dozen kids on his back in a game of Smear the Queer (ah, the joys of the un-PC ’80s) despite his weighing less than 100 pounds at the time.
The Huxtables are just like those scrappy Idaho kids; they’re frail but they don’t know it. A Touch of Wonder is perfect proof. It’s the sort of basement-jam toy rock you might find melded to your shoe after attending a Hella show. With their questionable technical skills, they could very well be the audio representation of a ‘Kick Me’ sign. Does that stop them from wreaking havoc on their tinny, inexpensive instruments? Lord no, and they’re proud to flaunt their anti-chops for all to hear.
So, what does that add up to for the listener? Well, quite a bit, if you vomit up fancy-schmancy production values like a lunch of epicac, castor oil, and raw eggs. The Huxtables dismiss the Cosby-sweater style of instrumental rock for a tattered pink Unicorns t-shirt, a much snottier, punk-ier, flunky-er form of expression that carries with it refreshing surprises that have nothing to do with crescendos or even dynamics. As free-form sound effects screech and wallop each other, a steady rhythm bears the brunt of the load. If it weren’t for the steady beat of the drummer and the bob-throb of the bass, these compositions would collapse; these jams are ready to fold like a cheap lawn chair as it is.
But there’s more happening here than simple rhythms and discordant dins. As hard as The Huxtables try to confuse themselves and anyone within earshot, many of the tunes make a lot of sense in an intangible way. If you were to attempt to describe A Touch of Wonder to a passerby, you’d probably seem non-plussed, and that’s the beauty of it: it’s creaky and (almost) solid at the same time, so you’re helpless to describe it. With so many bands to check out and so little time, it’s a stretch to recommend this, but if you are craving a band with few precedents, look no further than crux-less Huxtables. And don’t forget, this CD comes with a cute-as-hell 3" DVD and a nice book of drawrrrings Simon would be proud of.
More about: The Huxtables
