Review Summary: It Returns...
Garage rock is in its third coming, it seems; and this time, its revivalists are bypassing the White Stripes’ glossing of the sound, opting instead to stick closer to the original subculture’s lo-fi reverberated dogmas. Ty Segall, Thee Oh Sees and a score of others have come out of the woodwork to pay homage to that indelible Detroit clamour, patented by the likes of the Gories, Pussy Galore and the venerable Oblivians. Aussie band Royal Headache are the latest to erupt under the garage rock moniker, and “High” is the band’s sophomore album, following 2012’s critically-lauded self-titled debut.
On first listen, “High” carries all the angles of a good garage record. Short, frantic songs that let guitars crash to the forefront, leaving the rhythm section to chug along purely for pace-setting purposes, and a charismatic frontman howling over the whole thing. Royal Headache’s frontman Shogun even comes with an enigmatic name. His raspy voice is certainly rangier than the average garagist’s, allowing him to soar over the music, even when it gets to its loudest.
Of course, one of the biggest draws of garage music, from recording to execution, has always been that purposeful minimalist sloppiness, which on repeat listening revealed surprisingly deft musicians. The Oblivians had always walked that anarchic line beautifully, burying premediated and intricate guitar heroics in production fuzz. By comparison, Royal Headache’s songs follow a fairly orthodox and modest line. Once they lock into a groove, they stay there, letting Shogun’s vocal pyrotechnics lift the song into the stratosphere. On tracks where he succeeds, like single “Carolina” and “Little Star,” the vigour is so palpable, that it's difficult not to get behind the band. The problem that presents is that the album’s middle sags under that homogenous weight, making songs bleed into one another; and while that works as an advantage in the ambient field, it isn’t exactly becoming of garage sonic fits.
In that sense, Royal Headache are less progenies of traditional garage music, but more of Oblivians off-shoots like Compulsive Gamblers and Reigning Sound. Subtle organ touches pretty up the guitar-heavy songs here, and Shogun’s wistful lyrical matter is entirely devoid of sex or sinisterism. In fact, the grandiose hymnal tilt of Royal Headache ties them closer to Springsteen’s apers Gaslight Anthem. Some of their instrumental breaks even resemble the elegant strut of the Walkmen’s latter-day efforts.
Like most garage bands, live performances are where Royal Headache truly come into their own, where their songs are allowed to suck the air out of a room, and coax the crows into a euphoric leap. “High’s” title song in particular has an instantly catchy jig-like chorus, that’s pleasantly rowdy and just begging for a bar sing-along. Royal Headache certainly seem like they could have a long life of recording, easily ageing into the sort of subdued indie punk The Men explored on “Tomorrow’s Hits.”
As far as garage rock goes, there are better, more evil avenues to explore. As able as Royal Headache are, their albums are punctuated by a safe niceness, making for music more fitting to jump to at a college house party, than a dingy sub-level dive.
