Review Summary: Snore, snore, rock & roll.
Super Florence Jam (typeset as super FLORENCE jam for whatever reason) are really looking to make an impression on the rock scene in Australia. You can tell from that youthful ambition that wafts from each track of their debut self-titled EP, which was recorded in Sydney and mastered in New York City. They’re truly hoping to go places with their music, and it’s admirable as any other band’s hopes and dreams. However, it’s for this very reason that it’s so depressing: nobody has the heart to tell them just how insipid and uninspired the whole thing sounds. The music of Super Florence Jam is ultimately like a colour-by-numbers drawing that uses the wrong colours for each and every section – retro rock is really hard to screw up properly, and yet SFJ manage to do so with an awkward finished product to show for it.
Vocalist Adam Krawczyk was most likely picked for his position in the band because nobody else wanted to do it, or perhaps he drew the short straw. It certainly wouldn’t be because of his paper-thin falsetto and weak range, mostly sounding like a subdued Andrew Stockdale with some sort of flu symptoms, or an understudy in a Zeppelin tribute band that trawls RSLs across the nation. It doesn’t help that he’s rattling off prepubescent tripe like “Without the sun/You’re the lonely one” on "The Circle", or “Can you tell just when you are alive?” on "Ten Years" – the kind of material that would be rejected from a defective Mattel My First Rock Band prototype.
It would not be so bad as a listening experience if they could just pull off the moronic lyrics with something fun to go with it musically. This is a lot more important than it sounds, as it can make or break a band’s accessibility - why on earth do you think Jet even sell records anymore? Sadly, SFJ can’t even manage this simple compromise. On the musical side of things, big and dumb are the two orders of the day, each song attempting to be brash and obnoxious in its delivery, but sleeping when it comes to their execution. The guitar side of things divvies itself between caveman chord progressions or plectrum-picking the exact right sequence of notes to irritate even the most complacent of rock fans. The rhythm section of drummer Mike Solo and bassist Alex Tulett barely contribute a thing to proceedings – the final mix essentially leaves them in the distance. Or it could just be them trying to get as far away from Krawczyk’s screechy voice as possible.
It’s really hard to see Super Florence Jam’s potential over their derivative, dull meandering that has been put to disc here. The inner casing notes to its listeners that “this CD should be ripped in lossless only”. Here’s a better piece of advice: this CD should not be ripped at all.
http://www.myspace.com/superflorencejam
