Do you remember the movie “In & Out” directed by Frank Oz and inspired by the speech that Tom Hanks, after receiving the gold statuette by Philadelphia, proffered before the astonished gaze of those present remembering two, I quote, two good gay American people? Kevin Kline gave life to the high school teacher who, in one of the most celebrated scenes of this film, and taken to the limit of his nerves, between histrionic tones of voice and fuss, leaps forward as the exit from the closet and towards back to him, repeating it in a hilarious way for the audience to shout with the slogan: “inside-out”.
Film moment, leaving aside the sexual connotations, to illustrate the feeling that the debut of the Vancouver band THE FACEPLANTS has given me . And I’ve had the really nice motivation to meet with an old-fashioned band that, in a forward momentum, puts its concerns in the ROCK to, in a meditated temporal lapse, go back to the POP of supreme elegance, reiterating its dance to tone up your figure, without unnecessary fussiness at the time of putting on annoying colorful tights as well as making a hem on a cowboy or hanging a shiny leather jacket. As in that era of limited labels that were the eighties, in which the great groups recorded in our emotional retina drank indistinctly from both sources with a clear taste of timelessness.
From MAROON 5 to QUEEN, passing by, SHINEDOWN, POLICE, MUSE, SURVIVOR, STEVIE WONDER, ELTHON JOHN, ALIENT ANT FARM, side effects of the world scene Hard Rock millionaire revenue and a classic recycled aroma that, far from impaling, accelerates the ascension of endorphins through musical slaps in disuse, those apparently rusted by the abuse of many bands born to die when leaving the lists.
With a ferrous composing core, with challenging instrumental skills, they find in the vocal power of Dan Botch an ideal complement, of winning perspective, and to which the pulse does not tremble when inflating, bareback, the necessary pomposity to be placed in a league of inerts stars that only shine, at this moment, through the distorted echo of their own successes.
Animal breaks and reconstructs tradition with clear signs of reinvention. Unholy restores the lost connection between hymns and current popular commerciality. Who Am I Inside is a bridge predisposed to the AOR mecha that threatens in its stanzas and the gasoline of youthful emotions that drip seeping into its refrains. Impossible not to burn without finishing burned.
Devil in a White Dress understands Glam, adopts Funk, sponsors Rock and forgives the excesses of a trio captured on the scene by the mobile generation. Portrait Of A Woman had filled minutes in any tape of the eighties designed both to fall in love with that classmate who ignored us, and to love and hate, in silence and in tears, to that moment when we realized that we had been broken the heart for the first time.
The World I Know, one of the best songs I’ve heard this summer, should be broadcast on each Rock station with a continuous rotation with the insidious objective of invading the world and colonizing the vulgar, dethroning every vestige of the prevailing mediocrity.
Sweet Living Sickness / The Journey closes this magnificent work, to which we must add an intro and an interlude, in a superlative way, in a tradition coined under its own name, combining the epic and the versatility of the trade, without skimping the detail or haggling its value.
Hopefully they maintain their ambiguity for a long time, leap forward, jump back, whoever hears them will know their condition and that can not be judged, they only have to feel comfortable.
Jesús ALijo Lux