Stickmen
Life Colored Green (911)
by Scott Hefflon
It was only a matter of time ’til the Stickmen got signed. With heavy groovecore, stomping choruses, pogo-able sing-a-longs, and a variety of styles anyone into Korn, Powerman 5000, or Sam Black Church could get into, seeing the Stickmen go national wasn’t really a huge leap of logic. Much as I hate to define a band by a single (especially a cover), “Mexican Radio” pretty well summarizes the band: bass heavy as hip-hop, screaming chaotic solos, and a vocal sneer crystal clear skittering like an over-caffeinated Jonathan Davis into that “you’re gonna fuck up your voice, pal” roar. With all sorts of expensive studio gimmickry (not to mention eye-warping graphics), the Stickmen finally have someone else’s budget to use to blow their sound out of proportion.
Life Colored Green is a superhero comic book of action-packed tales, clever one-liners, and explosive imagery. Not that you can read the hand-scrawled, pirate map-ish lyric sheet, but take the trip anyway with your guide, the smooth-talkin’, occasionally borderline psychotic howler, the ever-vocal Steve Demirjian. Trust, if you dare, his bald-headed brother, Andy, as he leads you by the nosering through the bass-heavy caverns, letting rip almost Pagian riffs like farts that shred the steady clomp of marching beats. And while it’s pretty obvious Shawn Mullen is a skilled, highly-trained percussionist (both This is Groovecore and Life Colored Green have had drum soloing tracks), I think he basically enjoys hitting things. Hard. As for devilish bassist Eddie Jo, he combines the thickness of, say, Rage Against the Machine with something entirely more personal: his guts. While the bass sounds almost distorted at times (like old Carnivore or the harder Type O stuff), it’s probably more due to his replacing his bass strings with the cable they use to stitch bridge supports. Or so it sounds.
“Sick of It All” finds its way onto the disc, as it has on all their demos and self-released CDs, but it’s pleasantly offset by a slew of new tunes even the avid fan probably hasn’t heard. As stated before, while I despise covers as a cheap-shot marketing ploy to get a new band heard, “Mexican Radio” has never sounded quite like this. The vocal goofiness has been replaced by a precisely enunciated, “I’m about to flip out” voice used to explain for the final time that you want a cheeseburger, onion rings, and a large orange drink. Another ethnic spice I don’t remember being in the recipe is the Latino flavoring of “Flaco,” the story of wishing ya was a radio star (Hey, video killed the radio star, so be careful whatcha wish for). But, hey, at least they want to be like Antonio Banderas. And who doesn’t? I also don’t remember them being so urban. Been listening to a little Rage ATM, gents? But there’re a lot of disenfranchised youths wanderin’ the grimy streets of this here country, so there’s no reason Stickmen’s low-end riffarama can’t mix with a bit of thick kick drum. And, if nothing else, I just like the idea of “Red 40:” drum’n’bells.
(www.musicmunchers.com)
