Shotstar - What the Hell is Rock N' Roll?

Shotstar can take comfort in the notion that if they handed their CD over to a certain face painted, leather wearing, merchandise whoring, tongue wagging front man; he’d probably give it a “thumbs up”.

Shotstar pose an interesting question; one that the throngs of highly paid A&R/label head/fat cat folks across the globe seem unable to answer. What the hell is rock n’ roll? Is it the gyrating hips of Elvis or the wagging tongue of Gene Simmons? Is it Angus Young’s too short shorts or that pretentious flair those wacky Swedes are famous for? Unfortunately I don’t have the answer to that and neither to do the lads of Shotstar; who are seemingly lost in their incursion into “hazardous-for-career” territory. But before you discount this as simply answered questions, take this out for another spin and it’s highly likely that there will be some hip gyrating and tongue wagging to be had.

It takes a few listens but those sweet Weezer “woah woah woahs” found during “Tied to the Tracks” and the chocky rhythmic lumps of “Deadline” are as infectious as a hapless drunk partygoer at Mardi Gras. Vocalist Andrew Taillole appears to be vehement about his savvy rock influences, vocally resulting in a freak mutation of Gene Simmons and a cargo load full of power pop singers. Listening to his monotone dithering and guitar heavy leanings in “Class of ‘74”, you are swashed with weird hallucinatory montages of the 70’s and black spandex pants (don’t ask).

One of the album’s alluring qualities is its welcomed tendency not to labor through the songs. While the tracks are lengthy enough (averaging about 3.20 each), they ooze a certain “understanding” – as if the band recognizes that they aren’t all that good, but they’re going to have fun anyway. Pop sensible melodies and happy-go-lucky-mop-top-Beatlesque playfulness aside, Shotstar boasts a certain modern characteristic; it results in a passable partnership when teamed with their “retro-fixation”. While their work is calculated and innocuous, it is overflowing with sharp kooky fun-filled ennui.

Yes, I understand the contradictory nature of the previous sentence, but take the track “Slowdriver” as a model: rock heavy guitar twanging, bittersweet vocal work, cushy hand clapping, meager lyrics (“Her flight comes in at nine / and I’ll make sure that I’m on time / [import] her to my town / cause I ain’t got plans to settle down”) and a distinct bordering of 70’s rock with modern melody – a routine that has been done more times than Pamela Des Barres – and you get an adequate dose of passé merriment.

Oh, it seems we may never know the answer to the question; our musical landscape will forever drudge through the piles of hackneyed trends who are briefly labeled as the flag bearers of rock n’ roll. But as we trudge through it with everyone else, musicians who exude model naiveté like Shotstar can take comfort in the notion that if they handed their CD over to a certain face painted, leather wearing, merchandise whoring, tongue wagging front man; he’d probably give it a “thumbs up”.

(Down Fall Records / Sunset Alliance)