Australian band trudges into its eighteenth year…
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[4.12]
Mallory O’Donnell: If you presented an instrumental of this as an unreleased Cure b-side from 1986 it would be awesome. But then there’s this unfortunate problem of someone, like, singing on top.
[5]
Katherine St Asaph: This is the wimpiest damn vocal I’ve ever heard — let’s call it a descan’t. I’d call the instrumental sunny and charming if I could remember it; as for “I like the way you survive,” well, I do too. I hear it’s basic.
[4]
Alfred Soto: The warble — call it Death Cab For Birdies — is inseparable from the song’s aural and metaphorical weight, both of which project a not unpleasant slick-sweetness. Just don’t ask them to examine their metaphors cuz if you do the atmospherics will vanish too.
[5]
Anthony Easton: Does this kind of milksop whining about the nature of truth get undergrads laid, or does it get Something for Kate (worst band name of the year) laid? Do lines like “take the camera from the pile, and if it speaks less than a thousand words or tells a lie, you’re right” seem deep and cryptic to them as opposed to worn-out and down-at-heel? I wish I could get the energy to hate this — it is absurdly bad, but boring enough that any energy expended on it is more than it’s worth.
[3]
Jonathan Bradley: Paul Dempsey pulls back from the true depths (in both senses of the word) to which his droning baritone can sink to give here the impression he’s forcing his vocal through a blockage lodged in the back of his throat. The band’s music, however, is characterized by the same middling glumness that is this band’s bread and butter. The flickering guitar wavers that bookend the tune are of some interest, but “Survival Expert” suffers from the same affliction so many Something For Kate tunes do: they’re too interested in maintaining their Oz rock modesty to really dive all the way into the murk. There’s a darkness in this band, but it’s apportioned riff-by-riff and never becomes all-encompassing. Doesn’t help that Dempsey can’t write a chorus to save his life, either.
[3]
Patrick St. Michel: The chugging build of the song initially sounds nice, but Something For Kate never take it anywhere, the song ending with a whimper. It also doesn’t help their cause when they drop lines like “capsules filled with times,” which makes my inner English teacher cringe.
[3]
Brad Shoup: Other than their bassist’s Wikipedia page scoring a 98 on the Unintentional Comedy Scale, I don’t really know anything about this group. They prolly voted for the People’s List, besotted as this is with the twin pillars of Radiohead’s sturdier dirges and indie rock’s general youthy malaise. But SFK patiently increases the emotional gradient, trusting that the vocal melody accrues poignance with each iteration. It does, and the precise pronunciation of “capsule” and the part about shoeboxes can’t do much to slow it down.
[7]
Jonathan Bogart: Kate needs to move, and make sure her address is unlisted.
[3]