By Bernadette Giacomazzo, NYC.There's something about the Scars that I, as a reviewer, tend to find incredibly endearing. It's not the fact that they're from Holland -- though you can imagine my surprise when I, a Europhilic New York chick, got the email from the Scars' ever-so-nice promoter, Elizabeth -- nor is it the fact that they're cute as buttons -- this isn't Ricky Martin's latest fanzine, people! It's the fact that they're so sonic.
Let me explain something about the times we live in: we're days -- I'm talking inches -- from the new millenium, and the only thing that slightly represents apocalyptic mayhem is the so-called "music" we're listening to: pop-schlock is being produced en masse with Backstreet-N'Suck-98 Degrees Centigrade or whatever the hell else is coming next from the toilets of the Svengali du jour, rock's new face is the Rage Against the Korn clone of the day, and the "punk" bands can only get as original as their bodily functions and lusting after barely-legal groupies. It's a wonder I haven't slit my wrists in the Jacuzzi afte making an "I'm SO SORRY, MOOOM!" tape a la Blair Witch project.
Still, my salvation is CD's like Rude Moon. This CD, if nothing else, is full-scale assault on all six senses -- yes, you read right; this sort of thing penetrates your psyche, too, and you don't see N'Suck doing that for you, now, do you?! -- and is, amazingly, startlingly poetic.
The first song, "Rude Moon," does nothing more than assault you and your sub-woofers with full-scale bawling out of the lyrics. But so what? That's the point. Skip to "Mother Queen" for the sonic poetry: "Please give me a glance at your daughter/Just a moment and a single faint word." Wherefore art thou, Arthur? Dost thou knowst how bittersweet thine lyrics be, enough to wheedle a sexual favor out of a throng of disillusioned girls or three?
The other song that really thrilled me was "Flower Picking", which reminded me, in a way, of my own thirteen-year-old self, and all the stupidity and naivete that came with it. Still, you can't help but jump back when you hear, "She is a WOW!", and believe me, you're instantly convinced that, yes, she really is indeed.
The jury's still out on which direction this "new music for the new millenium" will be going. For the moment, though, we need bands like the Scars to kick the rest of these losers, at least musically, in their isometrically toned asses.
visit them online
www.thescars.com