Getting around to actually judging the music on this one is a real chore. Dean Spunt and Randy Randall of No Age are two of the most inspiring young figures in indie rock. I don’t live in LA and can only make observations based on how they’ve rippled across the US, but from my perspective, No Age have forged what so many artists hope to by resisting being placed on an altar and instead taking to the streets, so to speak. They have (not single handedly, of course) started a vibrant creative community.
For me, No Age, The Smell, Abe Vigoda, Mika Miko, PPM (Dean’s record label) and all of the other bands and artists contributing to the experience in downtown LA has challenged what we in Chicago call a “music scene,” and I doubt that the feeling is an isolated one. I considered how much of my music appreciation is typically done privately. For many, LA’s recent explosion has provoked introspection into how much more engaged we can be creatively when we exist in a community, when we allow ourselves to be constantly encouraged through interaction with others enriching their lives through art. It makes life so much more than liking music and going to concerts. The exchange of ideas and culture flourish and the human experience is advanced. Well done, No Age.
But enough about LA. This is an album review. All of the preceding is to say that it’s difficult to look atNouns independently of the context in which it was fostered. But maybe we shouldn’t completely.
Nouns is No Age’s first true full-length album. Last year’s blindsiding debut, Weirdo Rippers, was a crop of songs from five vinyl-only 12”s that were compiled and released together via Fat Cat Records. For records of this kind, it’s necessary to forgive a few incongruities and imbalances but, in Weirdo Rippers’ case, the movement, both in song and in sequence, was unexpectedly flawless. The song-by-song approach had served No Age well. The concept album be damned, I suppose.
Nouns is No Age writing a record from start to finish; the sound is no significant departure from Weirdo Rippers–the cymbals and guitar riffs spiral into a primordial soup. Dean’s blasts of vocals project urgently from the mess of feedback and effects burying the immediacy of the band’s natural pop-punk grace. If you were as entranced last year by Weirdo Rippers as I was, than you know that this is where No Age flourish most profoundly. No Age establish a standard for noise music. They give noise a purpose in seasoning their songs. It’s not used indefensibly but as a method in authentication. It’s why No Age is indie music’s greatest hope: their sincerity is matched in song and in deed.
It’s important to note that Nouns is anything but front loaded. “Miner” and “Eraser,” in particular, give the record a slow start and the finest pop-punk melodies are reserved for the second half of the disc. The first half may even intentionally dissuade some listeners from fully grasping the record’s direction. “Things I Did When I Was Dead” is a delicate and dreamy ballad though it somewhat jars the record’s flow. “Cappo” seems like dead weight, a retread of ideas already explored and “Keechie” seems to slow things down enough for No Age to regain their focus. “Sleeper Hold,” perhaps the album’s most foundational track, is where I wanted this record to start. “Here Should Be My Home,” “Ripped Knees,” and “Brain Burner” showcase No Age at their best.
Nouns isn’t a disappointment but it isn’t No Age at the height of their powers. Part of the charm of Weirdo Rippers was its attention deficit source material. On Nouns, No Age do their best to transition from a more singles-oriented release to a true album and uncover a few weaknesses. This album will undoubtedly make a big splash for the band but it isn’t yet delivering everything that No Age is capable of. They’re only just getting started, however, and I’m confident that their future efforts will leave Nouns in the dust.
