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Force Majeure

Force Majeure in Bloomington, MN
Current price: $23.99
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Size: CD
Rock & roll music that batters one's ears with joyous abandon, kicks out the jams with ferocity, and manages not to pander to the lowest common denominator is something to be treasured. The list of bands able to do this is not as long as one might hope, and it's always nice to add another name to the roll. One listen to
Delivery
's second album
Force Majeure
and it's clear that they are a worthy addition. The Australian band merges the swaggering strut of garage rock with the wall-rattling fury of punk, while also making time for disaffected melodies, angsty vocals interjections, and enough guitar noise to impress even the most jaded fan of six-string-forward bands. The record kicks off with a big bang on "Digging the Hole" with the drums pounding out a steady tattoo of sound, the stringed instruments raising a hurricane of sound, and
James Lynch
's vocals bouncing like a toddler jacked up on sugar. His songs are the most skittish of the bunch, full of anxiety and post-punk attitude. Co-vocalist
Rebecca Allen
provides a nice counterpoint as she takes a more deadpan approach and her songs -- like the twangy rocker "Deadlines" -- land a little bit closer to the pop line. (Though she does sing on "Stuck in the Game" perhaps the hardest, most metallic track on the album.) The band's dedication to cranking out in-the-red rockers carries them through most of the album, but they do have other cards to play. "The New Alphabet" is a clipped, angular post-punk number that sounds like a less frantic
Omni
, "Focus, Right" is a chugging, vocal harmony-heavy drone rocker that proves the band can do subtle just as well as they can do hard-charging, and "What Else" dips a chilly toe into synth pop and comes out solid gold. It's rare to find a band that flat out rocks as hard as
do -- check out "Put Your Back Into It" and its frenzied guitar soloing -- while also having the restraint to to craft off-kilter guitar pop as successfully as they do.
is a small-scale triumph that's built on musicians sweating it out in small rooms, cranking the amps until they begin to crackle, and plugging directly into the still-beating heart of rock & roll. People are also fond of saying the style is dead, if not on life support. Bands like this making albums this good prove without a doubt that arguments like that are spurious at best. ~ Tim Sendra
Delivery
's second album
Force Majeure
and it's clear that they are a worthy addition. The Australian band merges the swaggering strut of garage rock with the wall-rattling fury of punk, while also making time for disaffected melodies, angsty vocals interjections, and enough guitar noise to impress even the most jaded fan of six-string-forward bands. The record kicks off with a big bang on "Digging the Hole" with the drums pounding out a steady tattoo of sound, the stringed instruments raising a hurricane of sound, and
James Lynch
's vocals bouncing like a toddler jacked up on sugar. His songs are the most skittish of the bunch, full of anxiety and post-punk attitude. Co-vocalist
Rebecca Allen
provides a nice counterpoint as she takes a more deadpan approach and her songs -- like the twangy rocker "Deadlines" -- land a little bit closer to the pop line. (Though she does sing on "Stuck in the Game" perhaps the hardest, most metallic track on the album.) The band's dedication to cranking out in-the-red rockers carries them through most of the album, but they do have other cards to play. "The New Alphabet" is a clipped, angular post-punk number that sounds like a less frantic
Omni
, "Focus, Right" is a chugging, vocal harmony-heavy drone rocker that proves the band can do subtle just as well as they can do hard-charging, and "What Else" dips a chilly toe into synth pop and comes out solid gold. It's rare to find a band that flat out rocks as hard as
do -- check out "Put Your Back Into It" and its frenzied guitar soloing -- while also having the restraint to to craft off-kilter guitar pop as successfully as they do.
is a small-scale triumph that's built on musicians sweating it out in small rooms, cranking the amps until they begin to crackle, and plugging directly into the still-beating heart of rock & roll. People are also fond of saying the style is dead, if not on life support. Bands like this making albums this good prove without a doubt that arguments like that are spurious at best. ~ Tim Sendra