Description
If youve ever spent any time in the darkest recesses of the internet, youll know that powerpop is an emotive term. For every pockmarked tenderfoot flying the flag for some fuzzed-out alterna-rockers harmony-drenched new single, theres a grizzled veteran insisting that theres not enough jangle, not enough hook, not enough oomph on display (I hear the pop, but wheres the power?). Basically, if you thought what is punk was a granular debate, trust me: you aint seen nothing yet. Anyway, sidestepping the fact that I clearly am one of their kind, lets just say a quick fuck those nerds. This is where Class come in.
Class are a four-piece from Tucson, AZ, who are most assuredly all the power, all the pop, all the time. Theyve served time in a bunch of bands you already know and love – most notably everyones favourite delinquent slobs Rik And The Pigs – and Matt Rendon of their citymates The Resonars is the guy behind the mixing desk, so you know whatever comes out is gonna be good. 2-4-1 compiles the two cassettes theyve released on Cincinnati’s Feel It Records (which also released their debut LP proper, Epoca De Las Vaqueros) and its absolutely rammed with new pop classics. Steady Hands, Wrong Side Of Town, Inspect The Receipt, Left In The Sink… get learning these titles now, cause youre gonna get very well acquainted when you spin em until your needles worn down to a flattened-out nub.
Sound-wise, its pop music as envisioned by the punks – straight to the point, no fucking about. Some of these songs feel like Alex Chilton playing September Gurls on a curious cocktail of cheap speed and wayyy too much sugar; others are kinda like the aforementioned Resonars if they ditched their British Invasion records and got obsessed with a heady mixture of The #1s and Richard Lloyds Alchemy. Sometimes it just sounds like a forgotten late 70s punk classic, so I think were all in the right place here. Its scuzzy and scuffed up in all the right places, with blazing guitar solos and crashing drum fills designed to get you where you need to go, with a minimum of fuss. Class is an apt name.
As youd expect from a band with three vocalists, theres more than one style at play here, meaning this record pulls from enough varying strands to keep things interesting without sounding unfocused. Theres no time to get bored, unlike when reading my drivel. What the fuck are you waiting for? This is power pop at its best, punk at its funnest, a whale of a time in less than 30 minutes. Let the nerds wage war on each other – clearly, Ill be reading it – and claim your own victory by playing this one to death. This band are in a class of their own, and if Ive not laid it out explicitly enough, you need to start listening. Now.
Will Fitzpatrick
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