The Deadly Snakes

Porcella

(In The Red)

Record Review by Adam McKibbin

With all of their members taking cracks at songwriting and Andre Ethier splitting lead vocal duties with Age of Danger (side prediction:  “Age of Danger” is going to be next year’s “Apple”), The Deadly Snakes have pushed the boundaries of their sound considerably further with Porcella, an eminently engaging listen from top to bottom.

“The Banquet” is an energetic example of what a lesser band would use to fill an entire album:  slightly twangy vocals, driving keys, propulsive percussion, and a grand build to a throw-up-your-hands rock-gospel finish.  The distorted “Sissy Blues” is even more of a barnburner.  Both are a bit garage rock gone Nashville, and an album full of that formula would probably sell just fine.  Instead, though, there’s very little garage or Nashville to be had on the rest of the album, and Porcella sounds like a band with an even shorter attention span than the average fickle modern listener.  They keep pushing themselves in new directions, chasing after new ghosts and reference points.

One risky moment is “By Morning I’m Gone,” with a brassy ska backbone that could be from a Mighty Mighty Bosstones song.  A surprising amount happens within the song’s two minutes—a strong lead vocal that occasionally recalls a caffeinated Nick Cave, a lumbering rhythm section that solicits a clapalong, and some bluegrassy picking that gets the feet tapping.  The closing combination of “The Banquet” and the heavily orchestrated “A Bird In The Hand (Is Worthless)” serves as something of a comedown after the feel-good delirium of “By Morning I’m Gone,” the kitchen-sink clatter of “Work,” and the whistling, 60s-tuned “Gore Veil.”

While “feel-good” is an appropriate response to Porcella—and, presumably, to the Deadly Snakes live show—it almost certainly wasn’t the mindset that led to the songs.  The fleeting nature of all things desired is a primary motif through the album, and finances especially seems to weigh on the band’s shoulders.  “It struck me queer / For it had been / That all my debt had grown,” they marvel on the opening track (“Debt Collection”).  Wow.  It’s like they wrote that song just for me, man.