The Better Letters – “That’s Not All” b/w “Container” 7” (4:3)
Does the first wave of post-punk still has anything left on the shelves to shoplift, or is something different and more disturbing taking place when a new band smacks listeners over the head with that era? Not that long ago, bands could get away with sounding like a Post-Punk 101 amalgam; an aurally-amorphous support structure of Gang of Four, Wire, Joy Division, Devo, P.I.L., circa-‘80 Clash, and maybe The Fall if the front-man happened to be halfway interesting. They got away with it because it’s all in how you wrote the song. And keep in mind that the initial run of highly-rhythmic, treble-happy post-punk retreads became viable as an inspired retroactive foundation (or “influence”), sonically, pretty early … Circus Lupus, Fugazi, Coral, and others I can’t remember right now … those bands made it their own. Things stayed interesting throughout the ‘90s, but the gesture became a little emptier each time a skinny little half-man picked up a stock Telecaster (read: no humbuckers) and got all jagged and tight with the riffage. Pretty soon, coworkers with proven sub-shit taste are saying, “I heard a band you’d probably be into…have you heard of ______? It sounds like some of that stuff you have on your computer.” This comment could be about Futureheads, Bloc Party, Hot Hot Heat, or any of the acts pushing it half a decade back. If you haven’t cared to noticed, we’re far past the point in a review where I’d try to rattle your proverbial cage with something like “but out of nowhere, this record spits in the face of the historical poo-pile that post-post-post-post-punk became sometime in the mid-‘00s,” and if I’m the only writer careless enough to sit back and watch my fingers type the words “historical poo-pile”, then The Better Letters are the only post-x10-punk band cribbing the Talking Heads and absolutely nothing else. At least Clap Your Hands Say What? incorporated enough secondary crappiness so as to distract from their worship of the creators of quirkiness-as-embraced-by-art-pop (for which they should have been incarcerated after Byrne was finished making one of his only tolerable musical statements with Eno). This band adds nothing to a post-punk GPS system that so desperately needs extra sonic/stylistic accessories. If more than 100 of these were pressed, it will be in print forever. No worries. (http://www.thebetterletters.com)
(Andrew Earles)
