It’s been a long time since an EP whetted my buds so thoroughly. I received a These Are Powers EP care of Elsie & Jack Records. It had but a scant three trackmarks on its spherical surface, but it was enough to send my reserve into a tailspin, especially when I found out one of the infamous ex-Liars-rhythm-section-members, Pat Noecker, was involved. Now that the EP has gracefully given way to a stellar full-length, I can officially come out and say it: These Are Powers are a scary band -- in the best way possible.
What first strikes me about the TAP sound is the starkness of it. If Terrific Seasons were a Christmas Tree, it wouldn’t be one of those numbers with a Lionel train track running around it, expensive Hallmark hangings, and a star the size of Israel at the top. This is the X-mas tree you always dreaded as a kid: old, dusty, natural branches, frayed pine needles, a dusty birdhouse full of live birds, and the smell of gun powder hanging in the air. Now, just for gits and shiggles, imagine yourself running down the stairs as a kid and seeing a tree like the latter in your living room. Then, imagine yourself NOT being disappointed in the least.
That’s how I feel when I hear Terrific Seasons; I realize These Are Powers’ songs aren’t dressed up as much as they could be, but that’s their charm, and I couldn’t be happier about the result (Who would have thought Liars’ sudden split would work out so well for the listening public?). Seasons, to me, sounds like a gnashing, platinum-jaw’d hybrid of Drum’s Not Dead and Hoarse Lords by Clip’d Beaks, but even RUFFer, even more immediate.
I also find it comforting that These Are Powers settled into their own brand of post-punk³ in a short period of time. Every song is unmistakably them. It’s incredible how rare it is for a band to even flirt with such a distinct identity when so little time has passed. Yet here I am, banging out this review, listening to the Johnny Rotten squeals, alarm-clock guitars, and tribal drums of Terrific Seasons and getting more excited by the minute. Too good to be true? You bet, but this is what I live for as a reviewer. I couldn’t be happier -- it’s almost as if, after a long time at sea (in case you’re a big enough douche-nozzle to not have noticed, I had to take a TMT high-ate-us for a few months, and this is my first review back), I’m being guided back to the promised land by the one thing that can make my eyes blow up and my heart melt: a killer, killer album that didn’t come from the ‘60s or ‘70s (or even ‘80s).
Crafting a proper ending to this review would only kill the buzz I’m enjoying. So take my advice already and check out this album, and don’t compile your year-end list until you have.
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