"She thinks she missed the train to Mars, she's out back counting stars," sang (I use the term loosely) the latest wanna-be indie rocker Howard Stern over my radio a few months back while driving into work one morning. Incessantly, he repeated the same line over and over, not knowing the rest of the lyrics, never mind the name of the band, until I seriously developed a hatred for this nameless, faceless band whom I knew nothing about. A hasty judgment on my part, maybe, but I'm not one to take Howard's musical tastes to heart, love him as I do. After all, he once hailed E'nuff Z'nuff as the next Led Zeppelin. E'nuff said.
Upon receiving the Hum disc my curiosity got the better of me so I had to play it. "Maybe Howard's tastes have gotten better?" I asked myself, sliding the disc into the machine and gently pressing play. "Little Dipper" the opening track of You'd Prefer An Astronaut both answered my question and set the pace for the rest of the album. While his hair still screams 80's, Howard's musical tastes have most assuredly moved into the 90's.
Hum plays the spacey, new-age pop once found only on indie labels in the 80's, although their sound is neither retro nor dated. Trade marking their songs with soft, hypnotizing intros, Hum jolts the listener back into orbit as slamming, distorted guitars break through the seemingly tranquil veneer.
Singer/guitarist Matt Talbot plays with a omnipresent gentle rocking motion, his voice dreary and bleak, the perfect alterna-pop combination. The last track, "Songs Of Farewell And Departure," which incidentally should have been the title track of the album, sums up the take he has on You'd Prefer An Astronaut, that being of a broken-hearted narrator left out in the rain, alone, reporting on incidents he's either witnessed first-hand or been in himself.
Togetherness is a word synonymous with Hum's style. Exemplified by drummer Bryan St. Pere's tight, unobtrusive beat, never once do they seem to be awry in their playing. Hum just may be the vibration needed to spark a flame in RCA's otherwise smoldering stable of artists.
