Godboy

The Best Looking Band in the World
by Scott Hefflon

Whoo-wee! Just when your faith is almost completely drained by the stack of shitty demos from local weekend warriors, you’re lucky enough to stumble across an unsigned band that rocks your world. It almost makes it all worth it. Almost. Within the first few seconds of Godboy‘s opening track, “Check Out My Lava Lamp,” the boom-beat and distorted ranting accompanied by dirty slide guitar scream the quote “Beantown’s answer to Beck.” Produced by Andrew Murdock at New Alliance (I thought he went by Mudrock?), you get the feeling that the open-sounding thumps of bass and butt-shakin’ snare thwack! are intentionally non-cluttered. That’s a polite way of saying a major label woulda phatted the fuck out of this, so it’s probably better in this less-is-hip realm. When “Shot in the Head” chugs in with a bit o’ acoustic powerchording and a riff that’d fit in A-Ha’s “Take on Me,” you’re kinda confused even before singer Matt Savage lilts in with a vibrato-soaked voice somewhere between Geddy Lee and Theo from the Lunachicks. Crisp, crimped lyrics in a high range, accented by yelps and squawks; you get the impression that I couldn’t describe this song if I tried. But me like. “My Balls,” believe it or not, is a sweet ballad. Dreamy acoustic guitar tip-toes as Savage (ahem, can’t get past the incongruity of the name) tells the wispy tale of having a disagreement with his balls. “Best Song on the Mix” kinda follows, but not really. Man, ’80s rockheads would totally dig the catch-in-the-throat yips and wild tremolo of the vocals (think of the snarls and ripped vocals of 4 Non Blondes’ Linda Perry) if they could get past the subtleties. This ain’t cock rock by a long shot, but the singer’s got a voice, ya know? And there’s a guitar solo. Man, what the hell do you call this? Then “Burn Yer Skull” launches out of your speakers like a Gibby Haynes rockathon, all distortion and driving rock, but with twisted melodies that’ll warp yer brain if you’re fool enough to try to sing along. Transition into a “sweet” chorus sung through a bullhorn, and harmonized accordingly. It’s at about this time you’re bobbing your head, not so much in a “gosh, this is catchy” way as in a “it’s 4 a.m. and the hallway keeps running into me” sorta thing. Maybe you catch my drift. Hopefully you’re upwind. This is bizarre. I like it.