REVIEW: Sweet Water, Suicide (GoodInk)
- Chris Hill
Adam Czeisler's snarling, spitting voice was the main ingredient that nudged Sweet Water one step ahead of the line of grunge-era Seattle groups in the early '90s. Signed to Atlantic, Sweet Water, their major debut, was full of angst anthems and hooks that equaled anything their hometown brethren were putting out at the time. "Sleep," "King of '79," "Everything Will Be Alright" -- this was a group to admire and follow.
Their promise increased a few years later, following a label jump, with Superfriends. "Feed Yourself," "Superstar," "Cake and Strychnine" -- their sound had been infused with even more snotty energy and condensed into three-minute pop/punk wonders.
Contrary to high expectations, their rosy future failed to materialize. They fell out with their label, and disbanded.
Reappearing, unheralded, under a new name (Parc Boys) and label (Will Records), the magic had somehow been tainted. For every gem ("Lottery Winner," "7 Years," and "You Got Things to Do," a stunning heartbreaker of a song), Two Weeks to Live had songs that played against their strengths (the Gary Numan-esque "People" or the meandering "Misdirected"). Back to the "Whatever Happened to...?" list.
Add another couple of years, and surprise!: They've returned as Sweet Water, with the 14 track album that should have followed Superfriends.
The title's a puzzler -- are they back or just milking the fan base for a few bucks, then calling it quits? Hopefully, the former, as Sweet Water is as tight and energetic as ever. Their guitars still have that rock and roll zing, and Czeisler's voice, still magic, is featured front and center on every track.
"Pulling the plug on the cathode generation/Kiss me now with lips of desperation/Spare the rod and spoil the nation/ Running out of gasoline and patience": a combination of punk observation and Gen X disenchantment, "Cathode Generation" has attitude aplenty -- a stance that serves the album well. And in the best punk tradition, the songs are lean. "Been So Long," "She Says," "No Guts" -- instead of stretching the bones of these songs on a rack for unnecessary length, the band's kept the torture to a minimum. It's an under-appreciated skill, knowing when to step away from the song and let it breathe.
"Call me up when you need some/more of my blood to spill" ("Novocaine Girl"): with the punk, there's a bit of the martyr, but they can't be blamed for the feeling. Four albums on four labels gives them the right to feel malnourished.
One of their label splits is hilariously summed up on "East/West is the Enemy." Listen to "sign the contracts/you'll get your money back...I want to run my company from the bathroom counters" followed by a druggy, nasal inhalation, and you've got an idea of the bitter feelings harbored by the band.
That Suicide rescues three cuts from the Parc Boys' release ("Garden Party," "Lottery Winner," and "Dirty Pigeons") keeps it from feeling like a pure return to form. Even so, it's a welcome step back from the edge of oblivion. Kudos to Seattle's GoodInk Records for extending the hand.
