Always reverent but often delusional, the musicians of Detroit derive their energy from a backdrop rich in musical history and stark decay. They toil in the long shadow of past innovation and do their best to cope with blight and unfulfilled expectations. I would never begrudge a Detroiter his or her attempts to travel time, but I take their calculated efforts at invoking the ghosts of the past with a grain of salt. I’ve heard it all before. Unless the band has the songs to back it up, I’m no longer interested. Retro posturing is too easy. There are jean jackets and old tube amps for sale on every corner. I keep wishing somebody other than Eminem would clue me in on the sound of 21st Century Detroit.
Rather than plumb the murky waters of Lake Michigan for a sound of their own, the Waxwings have planted themselves squarely in the ’60s and are therefore subject to the unforgiving critical ear referenced earlier. Past and present reviews and press packets have likened their sound to everyone from the Stones, the Band, the Who, the Kinks, the Pretty Things, the Zombies, and Buffalo Springfield. That’s pretty much everybody, and while they don’t aim to mimic any of these bands entirely, at every point in the process they have made an earnest attempt to summon a golden era. The guitar tone is just the right kind of fuzzy; the bass is a low, rolling wallop; and the harmony and background vocals are sublime. The time machine is docked and dialed up to 1967, everybody get on board! But before you get too excited, remember to keep your head about you. Don’t settle for sound over substance. Make them earn it. If the melody doesn’t seal the deal, come on back to 2004.
That being said, the opening track, “Steady as Starlight”, hits the nail on the head. Warm acoustic guitars and the high sustain of vintage organ set the stage for a swell vocal melody accompanied by slippery licks of fuzz guitar. It works because the song is soaked in the ’60s, but not overwhelmed by them. Similarly, several of the album’s finest cuts hint at their influences without hitting you over the head with them. The trippy vibrato of “On for Tomorrow” evokes the hot, mean psychedelia of a melting filmstrip. The garage-y riffs of “All the Fuss” recall an era of wilting flower power cooked up in a grimy square of hot tin foil. “Of Late” weaves vocals and acoustic guitars like CSNY and throws in bongos, foot stomps, and hand clamps for good measure. The plucked arpeggio and piano of “Expected of You” transforms itself into a solidly inclusive rocker, that welcomes the listener back to a time when everything sounded this good.
Unfortunately, there are a handful of rockers that burst with immediacy but don’t really pay off with the hooks that you crave. “Answer to Me” and “Sky’s a Mirror” come to mind, but there are others. These aren’t bad songs, but they come awfully close to dreaded posturing. There’s good fun to be had with the Waxwings. One can only hope that now that they’ve got the gear and the sound, they’ll spend more time on the songs. You can’t live up to the legacy of Detroit without creating an identity of your own.