Now You See Inside


You’d be hard-pressed to find more plastic looking airbrushed guys than the four hair-care product poster boys in SR-71. Yet as if simply looking at a rock version of N’SYNC isn’t bad enough, hearing them is a yawn all its own — SR-71’s formula rock music is about as bland and shallow as an unused kiddy pool. The album starts out in overdrive, flaunting the velocity of a radio-friendly punk rock band with the energy to match. These songs, for all their polished glory, aren’t half-bad and manage to be somewhat catchy. However, the group can only keep it up for two measly tracks before they become yet another cliché-filled sensitive-guy rock outfit.

And so, putting on their best Matchbox 20 masks, SR-71 softly yelp lines like “I’m one of those things you’ll save forever but never need/ Like an old newspaper no one has time to read.” For the remaining nine tunes, the mood never changes significantly and, very quickly, the act grows tiresome. Toned down distortion and evenly-paced vocals dominate Now You See Inside and, sadly ignorant, the lyrics just keep grasping in the dark. As vocalist Mitch Allan says in “Non-Toxic,” “There’s only room for one on this microphone/ In my finest hour, I’m still alone.” We can only hope he doesn’t actually consider this album to be that hour.

BMG, 1540 Broadway, 37th Floor, New York, NY 10036

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