The oppressive dominance of the lone female singer is such that any woman who chooses to have her vocals submerged by ? or at least equalised with – instruments suddenly sounds quaint, positively retro.
But listen to Best Coast’s album, Crazy For You (ignore the shit power ballad title). Bethany Consantino‘s not ripping her own heart from her bleeding bosom! She isn’t shrieking her way to a rousing crescendo, a tidal wave of sonic tears, with herself at the front like those surfing horses in the old Guinness advert! She isn’t plucking or poking away at some obscure instrument or piece of technology which all adds to the kooky aura of femininity, emotion and song!
Best Coast sound very young and as if the album is a couple of decades old at the same time. Boyfriend, currently doing the rounds, is a sweet surfer-rock nugget which would sound perfectly at home on the Juno soundtrack, had it existed. When I’m With You owes much to Dinosaur Jr (indeed, the whole album pays tribute to the positive alt-rock of the early 90s, as well as the frequently made ‘lo-fi garage rock of the 60’s’ comparisons).
The harshest sound comes from Bratty B, which begins with an acoustic riff reminiscent of Nirvana, before re-entwining with the comfortable fuzziness of the vocals. The production sensibilities share something with Sonic Youth, too, adding to the feeling we’ve gone back in time by roughly 19 years.
Some tracks owe more than others; Our Deal could be from any 50s prom night, reminding the listener of The Flamingoes and Beach Boys (there’s even a little sleigh bell, like in God Only Knows) before the lyrics reveal that her boyfriend is stealing her weed. How cute! Each and Everyday takes the Monkees / Beach Boys influence to the very hilt ? the weakest track on the album, the last few moments reminiscent of a saccharine Christmas.
Which brings me to possibly the only problem. They’re a bit, well, nice. Some swearing might help, maybe fewer backing vocals. Definitely get rid of the sleigh bells.
Crazy For You strikes a lovely balance between artlessness and artfulness. They’ve successfully distilled myriad influences and recycled them into something sorely lacking from shelves in music shops and on stages at festivals. Bethany Consantino is confidently different from the relentless and self-perpetuating cabal of those who believe they are the new Kate Bush. Best Coast are, in short, my new aural nostalgia.
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