The Kryptonite Sparks – Sincrodestin
It’s great when rock music can still be divisive. Back in the day the mods and rockers used to beat each others’ brains out with metal piping because of the sounds blasting through their canals and the clothes on their backs. Later, the older, less dapper gentlemen would argue about early Pink Floyd, Genesis, and Yes, compared to their MTV, hit-making iterations.
Rock, if you can call it that, doesn’t seem to be worth the bother nowadays except that it still sparks heated debates among people who still dabble in the thing. Case in point, The Kryptonite Sparks is a band I know well, and one I have to double-check I’m not listening to in the presence of my bandmates, punk-rockers who accuse bands like the well-groomed Sparks of working for the man.
It’s true that here’s an indie-rock group that would jump on a trend faster than on germs on a sandwich in a train station. But, they happen to be quite a good band, with at least one finger on the pulse of what the public may still desire from a rock band.
You’re unlikely to understand the lyrics, so I’ll tell you that they’re about the inevitability of human destiny. I should also mention that the clever, but overtly-poetic lyrics are part of the reason for some people judging these kinds of groups sharply.
However, Sincrodestin has a lot of things going for it. It’s well-produced, radio-ready, and is tailored excellently towards its demographic. While many bands stumble blindly, The Kryptonite Sparks have found their light, and they’re damn well not prepared to stop for anyone on their way out of the wilderness.
Sean Frayne – Priscilla (Baby Let’s Go)
We all get annoyed by people, including our nation into a grand stereotype unless it’s a positive image. The Irish have a few stereotypes attached to them that, were I to mention them, I would surely meet my fate at the back of a punch in the mouth. They’re also known for creating incredible art, music, and literature, especially.
It sounds like Sean Frayne started out with that kind of advantage. To borrow a phrase from Lou Reed, his music flows like water down a mountain. He’s effortless in his approach, and, perhaps, that is why sometimes his compositions are a bit too pleasant.
Not Priscilla (Baby Let’s Go) though. A mixture of pop and classic rock, Mr Frayne summons some conflict on this cut, manoeuvring his well-trained vocals to produce a good slice of melancholy pop that brings to mind the works of Roy Orbison, Chris Isaak, or similarly broken-hearted troubadours.