Mall-punkers miss an opportunity for some The Band Perry typography…
[Video][Website]
[4.23]
Tara Hillegeist: Two aged scene-punk bros responsible for several of the least catchy songs of the early 2000s return with a sound that reminds this listener of that time Panic at the Disco dropped punctuation for an album, except unlike the aforementioned Fueled By Ramen also-rans, the Madden Brothers’ take on the same sonic feeling is catchy, hummable and sweet. The Maddens bounce through their singalong song like they came from an alternate universe where Oasis were a band powered by drumline-friendly posi vibes instead of drenched in simmering reverb rage. There’s not much more to it beside that, but I was expecting “The Anthem 2.0.” Instead, I’ve found what might as well be a sequel to “Safe and Sound,” with similar opinions about whistling as Capital Cities had about their horn section. My memory is just long enough to feel discomfited with how easily that strumming twiddle of a guitar line wins me over in spite of the thinness of the lyrics’ platitudes; my life is long enough that I don’t have to respect my memory. That doofy whistle is right there. I wish, though, that there was more of it.
[6]
Katherine St Asaph: Girls don’t like boys, girls like sun and whistles. Boys do twee with the touch of guided missiles.
[4]
Alfred Soto: Quiet and precise, with harmonies and whistles rising and disappearing into the mix — imagine Fastball attempting an xx cover. But the chorus uses thickly stacked New Pornographers-indebted AM hookiness in an ungainly way.
[4]
Cédric Le Merrer: If I’d had to guess, I would probably have declared a Sublime-y hymn to an unspecific revolt with orchestral leanings, by the fucking Madden Brothers, to be the result of an exquisite corpse gone wrong rather than whatever ended up causing this loathsome amorphous mess.
[0]
Crystal Leww: Pop punk gods do Peter Bjorn and John, and I am rightfully filled with rage for this watery excuse for a breakup anthem. Mark Hoppus aged better.
[2]
Micha Cavaseno: The fact that the head pair of Good Charlotte broke off solo makes me sad, because even when I was an over-aggressive “NYAH, NOT HEAVY ENOUGH” kid it was gothy guitarist Billy I silently rooted for. But what’s fascinating me is not the breakdown of a pop-punk group I never really cared for but the approach. This is the secret voice of the ’90s that nobody admits to: not the Nirvanapalooza rewriting of mankind, but the realm of novelty adult alternative such as “The Way”, “How Bizarre” and other surreal moments of madness. (Yes Max, Jimmy Ray happened. Nobody else will ever admit it, but that shit happened.) Why The Madden Brothers have gone here, with some pretty abysmal lyrics and an anodyne lite-soul-pop jam, I don’t know. But they could be onto something for all I know. One point for sounding like a WPLJ jam from 17 years ago. Now I’m going to go listen to Jewel and remember when I was innocent.
[1]
Dan MacRae: Smash Mouth enabler Eric Valentine produced this cut, and it shows — “We Are Done” would probably be 40% better if the Pals of Shrek tackled it instead, and that’s a conservative estimate. That said, you have to admire the chutzpah of The Madden Brothers to outfit AM Gold with a chain wallet. These are the new grandpas, throw all your hands up, etc.
[4]
David Sheffieck: If this is some sort of harbinger of the disco revival leading to a similar mining of ’60s sounds, count me in, as long as it means the massed harmonies of the hook and (especially) the vocal interplay of the pre-chorus get resurrected. Maybe future songs in the movement could try to be about something, though?
[7]
Ashley Ellerson: The Maddens have written an anthem in light of more folks demanding basic human rights and respect. It’s like they’ve recorded a revised “The Anthem” that’s not just for punks and subculture kids flipping the bird to preps and the American Dream. “We Are Done” could have been on Mark Ronson’s Version if it were a cover and the chorus didn’t take a stylistic turn with the choir. The verses are as bland and straightforward as scrambled eggs right out of the shell — edible, but they’re better with a little salt and pepper and hot sauce. The chorus has just enough seasoning to carry the whole thing.
[6]
Scott Mildenhall: Much of the charming wonkiness of something like “You Showed Me” or “Squares”, only with a chorus that bursts away from the rest of the track. The unhelpful thing is that all it ever does is return, burst away and return again. There isn’t an interesting enough journey, and the uninspired lyrics offer little cover for that.
[6]
Brad Shoup: The structure is at once steady and lively: humming with craft, built with the Fifth Dimension (and sunshine-pop at large) in mind. And yet, this is so thoroughly considered — each chiming vocal rejoinder, each blob of strings — that the result is opaque. It’s a gray formalist document, rather fittingly reliant on the spirit of negation and withdrawal: textually mournful, but vague where sonically it is exact.
[7]
Jonathan Bradley: The Maddens have gone truly native: “We Are Done” evinces a remarkable commitment to the Australian industry’s tradition of pop mediocrity.
[3]
Edward Okulicz: The Madden boys earn a crust these days as judges on the Australian version of The Voice (because we only want to watch foreign judges appraise our talent), to which I say “fair enough.” They were smart enough to discern the angel within their own marble, so their advice is probably better than you’d get from the average talent show judge. I’m down with the sunshine-and-slink of the verse and the pre-chorus — even the whistling isn’t annoying — and if they wanna take untargeted punk rebellion and apply a retro, parent-friendly filter to both the lyrics and the music then good luck to them. In fact, for two-thirds of the song, it suits them quite well. That chorus feels like a misstep, though; it’s gratuitous and gaudy rather than likably sunny and erases both my memory and goodwill from the rest of it. Save it for the opening of an awards show or the musical of your lives, boys.
[5]