Crud’s own Allan Kemler put the proverbial needle in the groove when he wrote that like the Impressionists who evoked ‘wondrous sensations which hinted at half-realized truths buried in the recesses of our souls’, the Apples create ‘blissful harmonies wrapped in effervescent melodies which tug on the heartstrings and call out the universal names for the ineffable nexus of emotions, thoughts and feelings which govern our existence’. But in direct contrast to most of the Apples previous records though, the new album, Velocity of Sound out now on Cooking Vinyl here in the UK, borrows more from the Ramones than the Beatles, and more of Chris Spedding than Christgau.
It also sounds pretty much like Robert Schneider and wife Hilary have been pumping pills as much as iron in the last 12 months.
In direct contrast to a previous album that took over a year and a half to complete, the album is a resounding 8-track triumph: leaner on choices but no leaner on melody and with a mind-blowing rock n roll purity.
Instead of the breathy bedroom melancholia of tunes like “Pine Away” or “About Your Fame” or the watery psychedelia of “Strawberryfire,” or the funky, blue-eyed soul of “The Bird That You Can’t See,” the Apples’ seventh full-length simply grinds battle-hungry chord shapes against trash-can drums to create an unfiltered drag on old-fashioned rock ‘n’ roll.
Purposely avoiding his typically dreamy and introspective take on life in the bedroom, Schneider has realised an anti-poetic and unpretentious 28 minute shag-fest of a record; an uninterrupted stream of raw and unadulterated indie-pop.
Although it might not be as excluded from references quite as much as Schneider might have us believe (‘Do You Unserstand’ could be either early Smashing Pumpkins or L7, ‘Please’ could be ‘The Tourists’ or ‘The Ramones’, “Where We Meet’ could be Oasis or Rain-era Beatles, ‘Baroque’ could be a nerd-happy Weezer) it is still a remarkably fresh and positive record with more energy and agility than a bagful of gymnasts in a gym closet.
Miss 1995 Supergrass? Miss 19995 Weezer? Missing the point? Then don’t miss out on this record.