Search - Heatmiser :: Mic City Sons

The band's best moment proves their last

John L Murphy | Los Angeles | 07/08/2005

(4 out of 5 stars)

"I listened to and liked this record before I had heard Elliot Smith's solo work--probably the opposite of most of you who might be reading about this c.d. right now! It has a punchier, more jittery electric sound than his acoustic-based solo work, and the tension between his plainitive voice and melodic guitar with the more aggressive backing of an amped-up band works well. I gave this four stars only because of the occasionally derivative sound--something the now-defunct Heatmiser had always to overcome. But if you like the "emocore" sound of bands from the Northwest, you'll like this. I don't like "emo," but I like this. Go figure. Neil Gust contributes about five songs here, and they serve to offset any monotony which may set in after hearing just Smith songs. Although all of Smith's solo work is strong, he admittedly is a singer you have to be in the right (downbeat?) mood to listen to frequently.



It doesn't earn five stars due to one song that reminds me of the awful Canadian band (with an ex-member of X-Ray Spex!) Loverboy, who titled an album "Get Lucky." The Heatmiser song with the same name seems an unwitting parody of some new-wave 80s beer commercial jingle. It's annoying and damages the flow of the rest of the album. As with all three Heatmiser albums, the pace of the songs has been thought out, and the band's records are best heard as a whole. They take time to open up, and repeated listens expand what on first hearing may sound rather generic Northwest punk-pop into an intelligently arranged amalgam of gritty lyrics, youthful angst, and itchy melodies.



Tony Lash's Sunset Valley, Quasi, and No. 2 all emerged after Smith's bandmates took their own solo routes leading other groups, and all deserve attention--Gust's No. 2's closer to Heatmiser, while Sam Coombe's Quasi's the least recognizable!



The production on "Mic City Sons" has a warm, plugged-in feel, and each instrument registers crisply but not coldly--this sounds more like a vinyl "indie" or self-produced work than many 1990's "alternative" (whatever that was--now it's just adult-oriented non-metal/non-pop?)discs. An additional point to draw in the listener comes from its similar-but-distinguishable pair of serious singer-songwriters--Smith's tales of addiction and despair trade off with Gust's stories about gay life --the latter which may not be that apparent to a casual listener or at first hearing. Repeated spins reveal a richly crafted, accessible but not slick or pandering work that holds up the more you play it. And I just figured out, reading a beer from Portland the other day, why the record's called "Mic City Sons"--the beer label said: "Portland: City of Roses and Micros"--as in microbreweries! Raise a glass and turn this up...I hope Smith's deserved success sparks a revival of interest in his old bandmates. I play it over and over; it sounds familiar, but still intrigues.

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