Wolf Songs for Lambs
Having cut their teeth on indie labels like thousands of bands before them, New York band with the English consciousness, Jonathan Fire*Eater, has unveiled a snappy major label debut, a Lamb in Wolf’s Clothing, as it were. The Clash meets the Beatles meets Oliver Twist meets Austin Powers. A danceable (“When the Curtain Calls for You” and “Station Coffee”), psychedelic, ’60s go-go trip (“I’ve Changed Hands”), with a hint of the theatrical, and gothic reverie.
The drums are shoved in the foreground: a potent boom (ala Love and Rockets’ “So Alive”), accented by an eerie Farfisa Fast Five vintage organ (“The Shape of Things That Never Come”). In fact, the gist of the band’s devilish sound lies within this organ, used atmospherically in an otherwise ethereal environment, in the same manner as most rock bands utilize the guitar.
For the first time in years I have come across an album that is not particularly genre-specific. It utterly forces one to express something more than just “It’s alternative.” Wolf ‘s lack of a categorization may (or may not) be a dilemma for the band’s record company, but it’s a sheer delight to the listener.