My roommate and I had a good laugh while listening to this band. Not because they’re humorous, mind you. In fact, the band tries a little TOO hard to sound serious sometimes, as they write songs like “Kids Like Me,” giving a first person narrative of a depressed boy in a playground swinging. Then there’s “Postcard,” which focuses solely on a postcard from a character named Allison. First, the image on the card is described, then the words “The museums are beautiful/ Roberta and Anthony say hello./ You’d love it here/ Wish you were here” are sung in the most solemnly depressed manner possible. So, no, we didn’t laugh at the band’s wit. Instead, we laughed because we were listening to what is probably the closest contender to Puff Daddy in the “unoriginality” category. Sure, they write their own songs, but their sound is all too annoyingly familiar.
Starting the album off with a darkened borrowing from the Beatles’ “Helter Skelter,” this band is just on a constant spiral downward — Formed of only guitar, drums, and vocals soaked with effects, little a sounds like a bad tribute band of Sunny Day Real Estate and Candlebox. There’s really nothing redeeming about this record in the least, as their songs are just too overly watered-down to evoke any of the emotions they were obviously intending for. I also shouldn’t forget to mention that there isn’t a catchy moment or hook in all 50 minutes of this monstrosity.
Even if little a had come up with their darkish demeanor themselves, their offering to the musical community could still be easily canned. Songs are filled to the brim with stupid clichés, their vocalist accents and drags out words that didn’t require the attention, and the lack of musical layering has given me a sufficient headache. Best not to waste your time.
Say Aaahh!! Records, P.O. Box 990, Allston, MA 02134