Small Towns Burn a Little Slower - Mortality As Home Entertainment

Mortality as Home Entertainment, eh? Great title, you so-called rockers over at Small Towns Burn a Little Slower. I’ve never been more aware of my own mortality than listening to this CD. I felt the seconds (the minutes, the hours) bleeding away thanks to this indulgence in what must be called hard-ly rock. Not that I’d know: Every song sounds pretty much the same to me . . . perhaps my ears were bleeding too badly, and I just didn’t know. (Not from loudness—this is the tamest decibel of hard rock—but out of an effort to blockade the sound) A few good riffs do not a good CD make, especially when everything is sacrificed to what must be called a loquacious sound. The music is like that annoying friend who thinks he’s the life of the party and won’t shut up long enough for anything else to happen. A still life, perhaps: There’s no doubt that your small towns will burn slower if frozen as a pastiche. (One good spot on that painting worth mentioning, "Alias: The Bee Keeper." Not quite sure why it's called that, but there's a nice evocation of late-80's rock, and it's not all just huff-and-puff for posterity.) Even with innovative titles (“1970 Topps Burt Blyleven Rookie Card”), with nothing substantial behind them, they become the most irritating type of novelty (like a Tamagotchi). Thankfully, in this case, they are not a nationwide fad; I don’t have to pretend to like them. It’s not all negative though (believe me, I can give a zero): it’s just not distinguishable. Take a random sampling of Small Towns’s work (which again, is really just the overpowering music), and the most you can say about it is that it’s pretty consistent. (Not too long either, only about thirty-five minutes of dross.) But look, if it’s all one anyway—yawn—wake me when it’s over. [www.smalltownsburnalittleslower.com]