An initial description of Libido Speedway as an 'archetypal Replacements/Pixies neo-tribute channeled through the modern four-lane highway of post-Nirvana guitar-rock' is likely to turn off this piece's more musically adventurous readers. Still, read on. Orbit's approach and attitude injects some kick into an overly well-represented genre.
Miscellaneous, confused garage chatter and an abortive attempt at a guitar riff begin "Yeah", the album's first track, but the simple, driving step-rhythm and rattletrap vocals are nevertheless endearing. Singer Jeff Lowe Robbins eventually reveals himself to sound a lot like Paul Westerberg minus the whiskey rasp (in other words, the Goo Goo Dolls' Johnny Rzeznik). This is evidenced in the now-traditional soft-loud (and also very radio- hooky) arrangements of "Bicycle Song". Drummer Paul Buckley and bassist Wally Gagel are both fluid and rock-solid, and the band's own clean, polished production leave everything easily palatable to the ear without squashing effect. "Medicine (Baby Come Back)", the first single, updates Better Than Ezra's "Good", adding some blistering guitar crunch and subtracting the cheesy 'Uh-oh!' (In other words, a well-deserved, if familiar, radio hit.) Interesting fuzzed-out bass distortion and clean, Afghan Whigs-ish guitar leads drive "Wake Up". (A tad like a grunge-rock remake of "Roxanne" might be a good parallel.) "Amp" revisits the fast-loud fun of "Yeah", with Robbins doing his best raw-throat punk posturing. "Rockets" strikes a compromise between the pop contours of "Medicine" and the garage grime of "Amp".
The endearing thing about Libido Speedway is the sense of fun it carries. Normally, one would expect the lyrical accompaniments to such musical patterns to be self-obsessed, semi-therapeutic, oblique teenage poetry. Not so for Orbit. 'We're gonna drive tonight! Oh, yeah!' exhorts Robbins in "Motorama", a rollicking, careening romp through Stoogedom (as in Iggy and the). 'Don't know why you won't dance with me,' he wonders in "Why You Won't." Sensitivity also occasionally peeks through the Bachman-Teenage Overdrive, as evidenced in "Medicine" ('She's a car broken down on the highway/She's a good little girl, but her daddy don't know.') But, for the most part, cars and girls are the common lyrical themes, even managing to reign prominently without resorting to overheated, AC/DC panting or macho, Jon Spencer-like posing.
So, while Orbit does not sonically distinguish themselves (initially, at least) from acts such as Everclear and the Foo Fighters, do not discount them as copycats. On Libido Speedway, Orbit more than prove themselves worthy of their own recognition.
