Review Summary: I recognize that typical, cynical smile you wear on the front row.
In every persons life there has been that one moment where we realized that The Reason by Hoobastank is one of the worst songs we've ever listened to. Be it the ridiculously sappy and simplistic lyrics, the bland and uninspired music or Doug Robbs mindnumbing performance as a tortured animal, one song was enough to write Hoobastank off as one of the worst bands who ever hit the charts in this extent. Which is a shame, because they had their fair share of enjoyable material and solid hits. But the mass is as the mass does, and made them disappear with their last single to have any kind of bigger relevance, If I Were You. But it wasn't always like that.
Enter the year 1998, where five highschool friends released their first album. They were called Hoobustank and were heavily influenced by musicians such as Mr. Bungle, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Incubus, which they were friends with as well. They had horns, they had the funk, they had the metal and they had the energy to produce something truly special.
Basketball Shorts is a very interesting album to listen to. And it all starts with the funk-metal/ska/electronic hybrid of Earthsick. If you didn't know who was involved in this album, they would be entirely unrecognizable. Doug sings with an aggression you just don't see on their later albums, the musicianship is extremely tight and inspired and the, weirdly enough, environmental lyrics are neither too preachy nor obnoxious. It sets a very distinct tone and sucks the listener in with ease.
What follows is an impressive journey through the worlds of funk, Reel Big Fish-style ska-punk, Mr. Bungle-esque madness, smooth-jazz inspired horns and heavy-metal spoofing guitars. Every track is just different enough from the last one to keep the listener interested, but keeps the overall tone of the album to make it a coherent experience. Highlights include the laid-back funk of Can I Buy You A Drink, the incredibly catchy ska-fury of Foot in Your Mouth and the late 80s expoitation-movie-esque funk of Educated Fool.
Lyrically, this album is your standard whiny highschool-notebook affair. If you can tolerate that, you're free to enjoy this, but if this is outside of your tolerance-levels, at least Doug sings with a lot of later unheard charisma on this album, taking stylings of Brandon Boyd and Aaron Barret and fusing them together quite pleasantly.
After the last tones of the fist-pumping ska-punk of The Dance That Broke My Jaw fade out, this album comes to a satisfying end. And, in retrospect, it is actually sad to listen to this album, because it exhibited an energy-packed group of clearly talented musicians who went on to become one of the most "meh" bands in radio-rock to ever exist. But in the end there is just one question left to answer.
Why did you guys choose this idiotic name for your band?
