No Age - Nouns

"Perhaps the cover’s job is to remind one of Generation X because the CD’s sound certainly harks back to a time when a hipster would be sound-tracking the extenuated moping about that passed for their existence to the strains of Daydream Nation, 69 or Sister. "

 

No Age - Nouns

http://www.konkurrent.nl/  http://www.subpop.com/  

 

May I say that I originally picked this LP up because of the booklet, a faux-photocopy assemblage showing - via the medium of various meaningful or meaningless photographs – (take your pick); the bric –a- brac of Young People’s lives Today. It’s all very Douglas Copeland, I thought. Perhaps the cover’s job is to remind one of Generation X because the CD’s sound certainly harks back to a time when a hipster would be sound-tracking the extenuated moping about that passed for their existence to the strains of Daydream Nation, 69 or Sister. Or maybe even the Power of Pussy. Yep, Nouns has that sort of feel.

 

The introduction to this review might sound a little carping; it’s age and I suppose I couldn’t help it, but let not my cynical tones divert you from acquiring this release, oh gentle reader. It’s brimful of scuzzy, almost slapdash Nikky Sudden-style tunes, starting with the bombastic, stomping opener, Miner. The weakest track, Eraser follows hard on its heels, but this slight dip in form is only temporary. One thing No Age do well is cranking out tremendous power chords, never losing their sense of balance and space on the way. There’s a feeling that the band like Alex Chilton as much as Black Flag. Check out the brilliant Sleeper Hold or Ripped Knees for proof.

 

Reflection is on the agenda too; Things I did When I was Dead is a mumbling work-out that has a touch of LC-era Duritti column about it whereas the gorgeous instrumental Keechie is Daydream Nation all over. Elsewhere the gloriously named Impossible Bouquet kicks up a fabulous Cluster style noise (well, without the synths if you get my drift).

 

It’s a good LP, summer fun guaranteed slothful ones!

 

Words: Richard Foster