The snob in me didn't want to like Maximo Park. But,
dammit, there's nothing I can do about it. I must fess
up: they're good. There. I said it, all right? They're
good.
Why did I not want to like them? Because their dance-y
post-punk sound seemed too convenient. Well,
surprise, surprise, another band that wants to sound
like Britain 1979. My God, it's just pathetic how many
of you there are out there. Just pathetic. I
yawned and rolled my eyes. But something about Maximo
Park begged me to play the disc again; something said there
was something there, something more. I tried to ignore
it. I tried to deny it and sat on it awhile.
Screw those guys. Who needs 'em? Not me.
You already know where this is going. Yeah, I listened to
it again and with more intent. And, suddenly, I was
tapping my foot and singing along. Shoot. These
guys know what they're doing. They know how to write
good songs and they know how to play them — and
mean it.
No, Newcastle's Maximo Park — singer Paul Smith,
guitarist Duncan Lloyd, bassist Archis Tiku,
keyboardist Lukas Wooller, and drummer Tom — are not
entirely inventive or original. You've heard these
sounds many times before. You've heard angular riffs
climb around hard edges like this before. You've heard
synthesized keys employed for wiry futuristic effect
before. You've heard drums hit with precision and the
ferociousness of a whip before. But you haven't heard
their songs before.
Produced by Paul Epworth (who also worked with Bloc
Party and Babyshambles), their debut album, A
Certain Trigger, has Maximo Park inserting enough
creativity, energy and personality into their music to
get away with lifting sounds directly from such post-punk
bands as XTC, The Jam and Wire — even enough to get
away with capitalizing on a trendy comeback that's
already been exhausted by the likes of Franz Ferdinand
and Futureheads.
The incredibly catchy "Apply Some Pressure," which
also appeared on their second EP, of the same name, is
no doubt the album's single. Slightly disoriented and
intentionally off, the rollicking track features a
spastic, high-pitched guitar line, stop-start rhythms
and an uplifting chorus you can't help but sing along
to: "What happens when you lose everything? You just
start again/ You start all over again." Backed by
lighthearted organ playing that signals The Doors and
a foreboding bass line, "Graffiti" is a darker, more
emotionally heavy, heartbroken track: "I'll do
graffiti, if you sing to me in French/ What are we
doing here, if romance isn't dead?" The terribly
addictive "The Coast Is Always Changing" shifts
between bouncing, speedy proclamations ("I am young
and I am lust/ Every sentence has its cost/ I am
young and I am lust/ You react to my request") to an
impassioned chorus uplifting enough to carry itself to
the coast. The electrified, pulsating "Acrobat" stands
out for its soft speak-singing, drum-machine
heartbeats and fuzzy guitar swirls, while closer "Kiss
You Better" brings the album back to dance pace, but at
a dreamier level, with passionate cooing, backup
"ooh"s and crunching, melodic guitar.
Well, there you have it. What started as prejudiced
disdain has transformed into loving surrender.
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