An on-going argument amongst power-pop fans has surrounded the issue of mixing and high fidelity. On one side, there are more classicist-minded listeners, who prefer the warm crunch of vinyl and old-style mixing, and on the other are the audiophiles who want production, production, production, and are the type to think a Tom Lord-Alge or Bob Clearmountain mix is a damn good thing. The divisions between these two crowds seem to go deeper: the former group tends to be older, tends to have been weaned on ’60s pop and early ’70s power-pop like Badfinger, Big Star, and the Raspberries. The latter group tends to be younger, in general watched MTV at some point in their lives, and grew up with Fountains of Wayne, Matthew Sweet, or the Gin Blossoms as contemporary examples of power-pop.
Supremium’s Tales is interesting because, in some ways, it bridges this generation gap. Coz Canler, formerly of the Romantics (making him an early ’80s power-popper), is a part of the band, but their sound is as crisp, clean, and radio-ready as possible. They owe much less to ’70s power-pop than they do to ’80s and ’90s mainstream rock. All over the disc’s twelve tracks, the band lay down layers of guitars, backing vocals, and anthemic hooks, and all the while they never stop rocking throughout.
The sheer accessibility of most of Tales is what makes it stand out. Supremium’s popularity may not lie solely in the power-pop clique because they don’t really conform to its standards. Sure, they’re a guitar-based band who writes pop songs, but that’s a broad distinction. And here, Supremium sound like the band from your corner bar done good. It’s that same kind of excited feeling we all had when Hootie and the Blowfish first made it big (oh, shut up, you know you liked them too), and we connected with them partially because we could identify with them. The same is true here.
Given Canler’s tie to the Romantics, it should come as no surprise that parts of Tales bear more than a little sonic similarity to his old band’s more rocking side (think “Rock You Up” or “What I Like About You”). But an equally accurate comparison is in mid-to-late period J. Geils Band, when they were transitioning from a popular act who were fundamentally a bluesy bar band into mainstream rockers. Songs like “The Girl I Want” or “Fall Out” have that same type of rocking, no-nonsense, anthemic ring to them, and like those successful J. Geils singles, they sound made for radio.
Bruce Witkin, the principle songwriter and vocalist in Supremium, also evokes an everyman stance in his lyrics. He may, however, come off as a bit inconsistent. “What She Needs” is a surprisingly tender tale of a woman striking out on her own from a bad relationship, but it’s followed a few songs later by “The Girl I Want”, where Witkin says his female object of affection loves basic cable, Whopper combo meals, drinking, and “Caddy Coupe Devilles”, and because of this he can’t love her or take her home, even though he does still want her. It’s odd, but it’s genuine, man, because we’ve all met this guy in the bar before.
If there’s any caveat, it’s that Tales isn’t really a new release at all, though it is packaged as such. It’s really just Supremium’s self-released debut record Lucky, originally released in 2000, repackaged by an indie with more professional artwork and heftier distribution. So if you caught them then, pass on this — you’ve heard the whole thing before. But if you missed Supremium the first time out, grab a Bud Light or even a nice cool Schlitz and crank this one up, because it’s some of the best catchy, muscular-but-not-macho, blue-collar pop/rock to come down the road in awhile.