Gaunt
Bricks and Blackouts (Warner Bros.)
by Jon Sarre
“Ain’t I a tease?”Gaunt frontman Jerry Wick asks the listener on “Anxiety,” the first song on their new record. From there, it goes verse/chorus/verse/chorus/solo/whoh-whohs straight into the next track, “97th Tear.” As first impressions go, I found that song to be kinda not-so-Gaunt-like; when Wick sings “I’m all cried out from graveyards to sunny days,” I know what they mean when the one-sheet bio says “George Jones could sing these songs.” The thing is, by the second listen, I caught myself singing along to the chorus.
For those who don’t know ’em, Gaunt is catchy like that, sorta Screeching Weasel catchy. Jerry Wick is a master at grafting a melodic punk rock riff on to an instantly singalongable lyric (check out “Pop Song” or “On Fire” or “Maybe in the Next World” on Bricks and Blackouts, or damn near anything on 1994’s I Can See Your Mom From Here or 1996’s Kryptonite – both released on Chicago’s Thrill Jockey label). They’ve also been known as uncool enough to run through the occasional straightforward ballad (see this record’s title track) from time to time.
Still, how they keep straight faces for “A look throws a spark that leads to a kiss/a kiss on the lips and the fuse is lit” (guitarist Jovan Karcic’s “Powder Keg Variety,” complete with cheese-rock solo and toy piano) is sorta a mystery to me. “Dancin’ When You’re Down” (a goddamned perfect Gaunt pop song) comes off as calculated for the big time as hiring Wilco’s producer. Maybe that’s what Wick is unapologetically addressing on “Duh,” where he dares “take a shot/like to take a shot at me?”
Gaunt is like a bird between a crocodile’s teeth here, but they don’t let on if it bugs ’em. It’s not everyday that an unheralded whoh-whoh-hey-hey punk band from Ohio who chanted “Fuck the rich kids” hooks up with a, possibly the, media behemoth. Sure, the conglom’s motivation seems off, ‘specially since the conventional wisdom keeps tryin’ to talk me into believin’ that electronica ain’t just some millennial Orwellian disco and rock’n’roll has gone the way of 12″ vinyl (which reminds me, how come I can’t find this record on, y’know, a record?). Maybe Warner’s release of Bricks and Blackouts means that the world’s supply of shitty bands has finally evaporated and from now on, only good bands will be paraded before the MTV cameras. Nah, never happen, but Gaunt oughtta get some time in the light. Then the public could decide for themselves whether they want what’s on the cover of Rolling Stone, or real, from the guts rock’n’roll. (Warner Bros. is a Time Warner Company. Time Warner is everywhere.)
