Art Brut

Bang Bang Rock & Roll

(Downtown)

Record Review by Adam McKibbin

Art Brut frontman Eddie Argos is a man who relishes the opportunity to make an enthusiastic proclamation. “Look at us! We formed a band!” he announces on the first track of Bang Bang Rock & Roll. “My little brother just discovered rock and roll!” he shouts on the second track. It is an album—and a band—that embraces the exclamation point.

While they are generally lumped in with the Franz Ferdinand/ Futureheads “movement” – and have certainly benefited from it, exposure-wise – Art Brut function more as the metafiction writers in the crowd, wryly commenting on themselves and their creative product itself. They refer to themselves in the third-person, admit that pretty songs were written to impress old flames (“Emily Kane”), and contemplate—several times—their future relationship with Top of the Pops. Their long-term prospects for resonance or relevance currently seem pretty dim, but Art Brut’s quirky approach often makes for a fun and funny listen in the meantime.

While Argos is definitely a dominant personality, Bang Bang Rock & Roll is also a guitar album through and through, and not always in the manner expected. While sharp, peppy riffs that propel tunes like “Bad Weekend” are, again, closely related to Franz, Bloc Party, and other recent imports, the choral crunch of “These Animal Menswe@r,” a late highlight, owes more to the era of Pavement and Pixies.

Argos is blessed (or cursed) with the sort of voice that makes it seem like he’s always take the piss out of something. His apparent lack of sincerity is something he, naturally, addresses directly, saying in the album opener that it is his singing voice and that it’s not irony. And then he says they’re just talking to the kids, and hope to write the song that brings Israel and Palestine together—so it’s up to the listener to figure out whether he’s being serious about any of it or all of it. Art Brut aren’t punk rockers, per se, but, like any brash punk band, they will send some listeners running to the hills, unable to make heads or tails of the loud group with the mixed messages and the weird-voiced singer. For those who stick around, of course, any exodus of this sort will only serve to make the band cooler.