I’ve had Carbon Stereoxide for about a week now. I can safely say I’ve got some conclusions about it. I think this effort was better at keeping my attention than the not-quite-cohesive musical direction of Natin 99. Not to say it was a bad album, it’s just one of the efforts from the Eheads that seemed rushed in the songwriting department…not to mention some music itching to leave Ely and Raimund were much better suited for their other musical diversions anyway. Those projects seemed to be a cathartic experience for them.
With all those side gigs behind them for now, the guys seem poised to take the spotlight again as the alt-rock champs they’ve perennially been. Lo and behold, they’ve also worn more influences on their collective sleeves in this record than any other. While Natin 99 quite had a number of tracks sounding like Fatboy Slim cutting tracks with Blur, this time around they figured they’d mine some other bands’ riffs (other than The Beatles, thank God!). In the process, their new perspective with their music sounds a lot fresher than I’ve ever heard before.
Ultrasound starts the record with an overwhelming assault to the ears as the boys get in touch with their inner Wolfgang and rock out to probably their most unflattering reading of The Immigrant Song mutated with a pinch of Black Sabbath. Maskara has them sounding like The Sex Pistols, especially on the descending chord progression that takes a hold of you and doesn’t let go. Wala dabbles with more acoustic dynamics with their stab at sounding like Wilco and these other bands of the No Depression ilk…slowly it just shifts off to Pink Floyd territory with the spoken word portion of the song. How can such a simple ditty be great to listen to over and over again? This song alone is turning out to be one of my favorites in the bunch.
Hula is like an outtake from Sandwich’s sessions. The track just lets me know that it’s a good idea for the guys to pursue side projects because what they bring back to the table as The ‘Heads composition-wise become more streamlined. Palamig pursues the quiet/loud texture also effectively used in Sandwich and is boosted further into stratospheric heights by the space-age sounding drum n’ bass percussion to back the more acoustic drums.
Paintstripper goes all out too with the Dream Theater- sounding main riff (DT fans will know which DT song it is) that could about blow any unsuspecting listener down quicker than a fly and bug spray in a closet.
The album is sprinkled with a lot of these little tone poems that either punctuate songs or segue them to each other. Raimund seems to be getting better at programming percussive elements which are quickly becoming a trademark of the band.
I can conclude thus: it's great to find out that The 'Heads have more than just the fab four in mind nowadays as a songwriting influence. Time off the band doesn't make the sum of it's parts weaker than the whole. Finally, it's also excellent to bear witness to the renewed vigor that this band found after what I feared was a slump in Natin 99.
