Word: bande
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...band's moniker is typically the product of long and arduous nights spent searching for the perfect summation of everything a band sets out to be. In the case of a band christened with the most illustrious of expletives, the connotations surrounding "Fuck" are particularly strong. Ask anyone to predict the band's style, and the answers will most likely be pretty similar. Death-metal. Angry punk-rock punctuated with chaotic background crashing and thrashing. Grating shrieks of hormone-infused, garage-ridden, guitar-laden pre-pubescents. Anything but the surprisingly slow, seductive and beautifully simple melodies contained within...
Fuck is a band that thrives upon subverting expectation and playing upon the ambiguities of language. A manifesto contained within one of their earlier albums explains that "From the puritanical knee-jerk cringe to the joyous declamation of tourettes [sic], the mere utterance of this monosyllable rarely fails to invoke an immediate response, emotionally and/or intellectually. And in considering an implied negativity, the effect becomes confused, comical and thought-enticing: fuck records, fuck product, fuck fans, fuck music...
...fascination with the nature of fame is evident from the first song. The album opens with "the thing," a short piece that attempts to mock the expectations surrounding their name. A woman's voice, credited as the "sacrificial lamb," screams above low-rumbling bass and guitar while the band's lead singer, Tim Prodhumme, mumbles incoherently about "the thing." Yes, this is the Fuck we expected...
...abstractions of lies and betrayal, Rzeznik doesn't disclose, but his lyrics read like a high-school diary. Currently seen glamming it up in the newest issue of Rolling Stone, Rzeznik himself sheds here as well some of the down-home Buffalo boy that got him and his band where they are today. On certain tracks, such as "January Friend," his normally earnest, raspy voice mutates to a synthetic-sounding and nasal scratchiness, reminiscent of a phlegmy Ed Roland. The Goo Dolls, however, are no Collective Soul; Rzeznik here commits the double wrong of choosing the wrong person to imitate...
Musically, the Goo Dolls are your run-of-the-mill mainstream alternative band. Nothing extraordinary is done here in the way of instrumentation, and most songs are similar in their construction and execution--verse, verse, bridge, verse. "Extra Pale" is a brief flash of distinction in the obscurity created by so many homophonic songs with its abrupt pauses and nicely-incorporated backup vocals. Those who might be tired of "Iris" will welcome its mandolin and violins to break up the thickness of guitar, bass and drums characterizing the rest of this album. The strangest quality of the music of Dizzy...