MSHVB sound like a bunch of talented, precocious kids let loose for an afternoon in a studio and given until the end of the day to devise a grand statement.
How many generic indie rock tropes can a band stuff into a mere three minutes? Probably more than the Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band manages in "Who's Asking", the first track from their self-titled debut, but that's not to denigrate the group's dubious achievement. In those three short minutes, we get dramatically massed vocals, upshifted double-time guitars, half-time breakdowns, perky synth flourishes propelling a poppy bridge, and a disjointed, herky-jerk denouement. The following track, "Masquerade", is no less frustrating in its cut-and-paste approach, featuring irony-free metal leads and distracting waltz-time detours, both of which derail what might have been, left alone, a perfectly servicible rave-up. By "Cheer for Fate", the third track, the disc has ominously displayed a notable lack of traction, the songs slipping away out of control like a speeding car hydroplaning across the surface of a highway (and not in a good way).
And so it goes. Arrangements that never quite gel, tempo and tonal shifts that sabotage whatever momentum the Seattle band has managed to muster, flat production (courtesy Scott Colburn, who has otherwise impressive credits with Arcade Fire and Animal Collective to his name) that muffles the group's energy-- Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band sound like a bunch of talented, precocious kids let loose for an afternoon in a studio and given until the end of the day to devise their grand statement. It tries too hard, yet somehow, at the same time, not hard enough.
The fact that the band seems in such good spirits throughout does at least mitigate the record's half-baked feel. These glimmers of giddiness boost "Going on a Hunt" and "Dull Reason" out of the ghetto of the totally tedious, injecting some grinning character into songs otherwise grimly by-the-books. Indeed, no matter how many quirky, gimmicky twists and turns tunes like "Little Red Shoes" or "En Fuego" might take-- and the latter, for example, does swerve suddenly from those Iron Maiden-ready leads to moments of pensive introspection, however fleetingly-- they never take us anywhere truly surprising, let alone interesting.
In fact, when the record does hit a quiet patch, as it does at the start of the string-laden final track "On the Collar", the strategy backfires, since you wait with baited breath for some sudden change that for once never comes. Albums that leave you wanting more are one thing. Albums that leave you hanging are something else. With more experience, the group could perhaps one day drum up a more cohesive, compelling vision, something that reaches out and grabs you. For now, though, the band's grasping at straws.