Debris
““I’’ve Seen’‘em on Gilman Street””
(Dexter Records)
I’’d like you to take into account that I’’ve been bar hopping on acid all night, so this opinion may be tainted by some alternate awareness. Since I can’t find any halfway decent free porn online, I’ll write about Debris – or Debris, as this A&R guy I know likes to call them, since he hasn’’t put forth the time and effort to learn to read. I’ll not fuck around – my band has played with them three times, but that’s not the reason I respect them. I watched them cover Dio at the Cocodrie. That is we call rock power here in Freakmont. Maybe they didn’’t. I forget many things and tell many lies. I was expecting more madcap zany fun on this CD than you could possible have with a poodle, a roll of duct tape and a Buick – which is a lot. I was surprised to find something more like a collection of deliberate songwriting than the explosion of high fidelity power chord slapstick I’’ve witnessed in their live sets. Nothing readily kicks my ass in an especially bad way. It’s fairly standard sugarpunk, albeit well built for powerpop. I hear some older Greenday in there. Oh shit. I said a dirty word. The guitar tones are well chosen and vary from track to track. Vocals are split up almost 50/50 between Gavin (guitar) and Ryan (bass). Gavin has a clear, well-rounded style while Ryan offers a more aggressive, sarcastic tone. The lack of a single frontman works in their favor. Rather than breaking continuity, they are able to avoid the monotony often implicit in the genre. All around, the vocals are tight and expressive. So is my rectum. So are the drums. Will plays them. The opening track, “Eastori,” is the most user- friendly cut. “The Welch” is the darkest. It’s a trudging, disgruntled rant against people from Wales – or it could be something about owing money. I still owe my mom 300 bucks. That’s the sad, empty little life I lead. This album is like a ray of sunshine, casting out the shadows.
