Little Red Rocket

Who Did You Pay (Tim/Kerr)
by Jamie Kiffel

“Adequate” is a funny word. It literally means: better than bad, but worse than good. The mind does not understand adequacy. Thus, adequate things have a phenomenal ability to slide into extremity. For example, an adequately-sized apartment quickly becomes a rat-hole barely large enough to fit your toenail clippings. Conversely, a band like Little Red Rocket can be easily greased to fit into the mental cubbyhole reserved for intensely lovable music. With unoppressively balanced guitars, pleasingly mid-ranged female vocals, and catchy rhythms thoughtfully peppered with unusual instrumental shifts, Little Red Rocket skips pleasingly into the “surprisingly enjoyable” category. The plain vanilla pop song formula (jaunty start-chorus-bridge-chorus-bounce to a halt) is personalized with cellophane-coated vocals, occasional organ tones, and a twangy racing guitar effect that grins a jittery mouthful of sugar-packed caffeination. Certain ballads, such as “Maybe,” begin to sag in the rear and to drag obstinately, but they are balanced by such radio-raring cuts as “I’m a Fake” and such shoutably brainless lines as “when the rain stops, we can come back out” on “New Country.” Like a toy rocket, the band is an amusing mental toss-about, fun to flip through the mind watching the light zing off the shiny tunes.
(www.tk-records.com)