Record Reviews » Talons - Talons » Polaroids Of Androids

9.6

Some cold hard facts. We lust Talons. We have since the beginning of their career and/or time. This initial praise of them sparked a friendship. We say 'hi' to them when we see them out and about, we high five them like frat boys and occasionally they give us what the younger generation would call 'props'.

This isn't intended to act as a disclaimer, but instead to make everyone aware of this background before getting into the meat of the review. It also should be noted that there have been several conversations with the band where they have stressed that there is no obligation to talk about their music kindly or even review it at all. We feel completely comfortable with the idea that if we didn't like this record we would have no problems telling the band, you and anybody that would listen that we thought that. Ballsy? No. Just focused on 'truth bombs'.

With all that said - this the kind of album that makes you thankful you aren't a deaf cunt.

At the heart and soul of this record is the same thing that lured us to Talons in the first place. Their brutal smash-your-face attitude? Their hard luck stories of a forgotten era? Their cuteness? No, no and maybe. It's the undeniable fact that they believe in their music that has always been the clear focus of our 'man crush'. You can hear this self belief in every guitar thrash, every pain-stricken lyric and every head thumpin' drum line. Their self-created punk angst style only works because of this sense of passion, with the emotive connection between creator and product forming the basis of everything that is great about the band and this record.

The LP kicks off with All The Tricks, two minutes of unhinged punk rock that demands full attention. While the majority of the tracks are guided by the strained vocals of guitarist Christian J Best, there are random occasions (such as this opening number) where drummer Benjamin James takes lead. This use of dueling vocals, which resurfaces at a handful of other moments during the record, is just one of the small things the group has added into their arsenal of weaponry since their impressive debut EP Ducats.

In a similar vein to 2008's Tactics by their musical big brothers Further, Talons don't let anything drag on longer than it needs to. Each track smacks you in the face and cleans up before you have time to say 'what are you doing in my kitchen' and long before ideas get repeated, things get weird and/or the group trap themselves into anything that even resembles a radio-focused loop. This tactic (no pun intended) assists the band's punch-and-run style of operation, adding to the overall impact of the music. Live favourite Mudrockets, with it's jolting guitars and suffocated vocals, executes this with pure precision. Running in at just two-and-a-half minutes, it's a lovely left jab to the jewels. Gravitron, built around a lovely use of calm-vs-wildness contrast, operates under a similar technique, throwing about 20 billion ideas and different moves at the listener before abruptly quitting.

Underlying the group's near perfect execution is the wonderfully complimenting production. For this a polite hat tilt should also be thrown in the direction of Tim Carr, who, incidentally, was also responsible for Dead China Doll's brilliant self-titled record last year. People (like us!) who have seen these songs performed countless times will notice Carr's mostly subtle alterations, as well as the overall hand of stability that he has brought to each track. The group's enjoyable punk 'looseness' is still there, yet there also seems to have been a clear push for a single focus point instead of letting the trio simply battle it out. Something that I imagine - although it works well in a live setting - wouldn't transfer successfully to record.

Unfortunately, our excessive praise/lust/stalking of Talons over the past few years has led to a general perception that we would stick by their side regardless of what kind of music/crap they churn out. It's like that heavy metal band your older brother refuses to admit has 'gone to shit'. Except it's nothing like that. This record will rip your face off during your first listen and then dive in deeper and rip your kidneys out on the fifth, sixth and twenty eighth lap around. Don't believe us? Well, I guess that is just your loss. Suck it.

Words by Jonny

June 24, 2009 @ 08:31