The Twerps - Black Eyes
Whether a band should cram more than one song on each side of a 7” record is a matter of debate. The longer the side, the more information needs to be cut into the vinyl. More grooves mean smaller grooves, which results in lessened sound quality. Furthermore, if the practice forces listeners to spin the single at 33 rpm, the volume will often pale in comparison to 45s in their collection. That said, in the case of the latest single from Melbourne, Australia’s Twerps, I’m glad the band wedged a third song in. Opener “Black Eyes” shambles along with the twang-and-jangle shuffle common to Brooklynites like The Beets, albeit with a touch more washed-out Americana. The lyrics are pointedly bratty, offering half-hearted apologies before delivering the caveat “I don’t know where I’m at,” then recoiling from both these sentiments as the speaker assures the listener that he “don’t care what you want”. Given the tone already set by the musical style, the sentiment seems almost redundant. But before I could even reach my record player to check out the flipside, I was struck with the wide open strum and slinkiness of “Self-Assured”. This sudden second track plays like a caUSE co-MOTION tune slowed to a crawl, which builds to a layered, feedback-laced crescendo a la Yuck-cum-90s-college-rock: awesome. Though it’s probably worth noting that this somewhat reserved howl comes to the listener through the band’s ever-present reverb shield, it’s nonetheless nice to hear a bit of noise that other bands in this genre would probably forego for the vintage 60s pop or girl group vibe. The steady-if-stilted drumming, which recalls the breezy Beach Fossils, serves to anchor a song that lurches toward a climax in every chorus. “Without You” owns all of side B. The “wow and flutter” effect of either the recording or the format tugs at the rhythm guitar under vocals that sound tentative, even pleading. The songs four chords ascend in pitch again and again, while wandering bass notes underscore the leads that snake above them and the drums try coaxing the song to some sort of definitive close. The whole arrangement seems to highlight the romantic struggle hinted at in the lyrics, never achieving any kind of easy out and instilling a sense of longing in the listener as a result. But with lines like “Hold me, squeeze me, don’t let me fall” and “I want to fade into you,” we kind of knew this thing wouldn’t have a happy ending, right? (Underwater Peoples, 2011)
