Lagwagon

Hoss (Fat)
by Scott Hefflon

Back with the punk anthems of the year! Hoss (Fat) is the first rest stop in nearly two years by the caffeine-fueled Lagwagon. When this release came in, I overrode everyone to get it, my battle cry being, “I love Lagwagon!” One of the punk elitists who lost two-out-of-three rounds of Duck, Duck, Duck witticized “I don’t think you’re allowed not to love Lagwagon.” That line was so quotable I opted to open with it rather than with my own stellar intro, “These guys rock!”

So Lagwagon gives us 14 more personal attestments to the sad state of our culture and its not-so-dissimilar counter-culture. Vocalist Joey still puts his heart where his mouth is and offers a helping hand to the isolated masses. He’s definitely progressed as a lyricist, both in the scope of his experience, and the articulation of the hope he’s tied securely around his waist like a lifeline. Shifting between the general and intimate, Joey is right on the level. Getting fucked over, getting snubbed, and watching the people around him waste away because they can’t find anything solid upon which to base their lives – it’s in there, all in cruel detail. Lagwagon knows how to take these sensitive observations and wrap them around a hook. Without turning the message trite, the choruses use repetition as an affirmation.

Hoss that it’s going to take the spinoffs a good long time to match it. (I hesitate to call the imitators “Wagon-Jumpers” for obvious reasons.)

What’s most impressive, musically, is that Lagwagon has found the magic formula to use both rampaging drumming and dramatic, galloping paces while still maintaining clear, clever chord structures. The dynamic, engaging timings are far more than showcases to prove the musicians can fucking rock. One final gush: Lagwagon relies on the strength of Joey’s unmistakable voice. While so many bands went the route of million-layer vocals, Joey has something to say and a strong voice with which to say it.

I’d list more than half the songs as highlights, but I’ll pull out only the truly amazing. Lyrically, “Weak” gives voice to pitying the bullies; “Black Eyes” seems like such a campfire join-hands-and-sing-along that I’d hate it if it didn’t give even me the warm fuzzies. “Razor Burn” is practically the only humorous song on Hoss (not quite up to par with “Mr. Coffee” and the cover of C.C.R’s “Bad Moon Rising”) and has two lines at the end that make the whole thing work, and the Nirvana-esque verses in “Ride The Snake” really annoy me, but are kinda cool conceptually. Yeah, so Lagwagon kinda went serious and all morose on us. But after listening to the whole CD yet again, my head is still swaying and nodding to the beat. Hoss is a record you could pick up years from now and get addicted to all over again.