The Hellacopters - Rock and Roll is Dead

Time for a road trip.

Nothing like it is there? Horsepower under the hood, the open road up ahead. No time pressure, no bosses or deadlines. Just that distant horizon line beckoning you on like a freaking siren, speeding down the highway like a 21st century vagabond.

All you need is that perfect soundtrack. And the Hellacopters are here to comply.

Any one who's a fan of modern garage rock, tossed in with a heaping dose of punk energy and a bucketload of melody will already be familiar with The Hellacopters and their version of a modern day MC5 meets the Stooges. They're huge in Europe, especially their native Sweden where they started off as a side-project for members of Entombed and the Backyard Babies. But if you think you know all that these guys are about, you may be in for a surprise. They still have a few cards hidden up their collective sleeve. After ironically naming their album "Rock and Roll is Dead,"(real irony, not the Alanis Morissette moronic definition of irony) The Hellacopters go on for the next 40 or so minutes to prove that they were wrong.

This album is a road trip in and of itself, an excursion through the detritus of rock and roll, searching for that which hasn't been bastardized, commercialized beyond recognition and prostituted to the ad agencies. The aptly titled "Before the Fall," starts off with a distorted Chuck Berry riff, recalling that long lost time when rock music was energized, fresh and dangerous, long before the corporate bald-heads got their greedy hands onto it. After the intro, the song explodes into a full on punk frenzy, powering through with dynamic energy and vitality. This is balls out, foot to the pedal rock and roll, just what we need to get our heads clear as he strike out onto the road.

The road trip continues through the forgotten lands of diverse musical styles. Look out your window to your left. "Everything's on TV," blasts out, all swaggering street punk/garage rock and riff heavy with lyrics that are so firmly tongue planted in cheek it would take surgical resection to remove them. Just check out the couplet, "No I don't need to go out/I just stay inside it doesn't bother me/I have all I need/ because everything's on TV," and you'll see their not so subtle observation of modern society.

Up ahead, lurking behind the skinny ties and boot pants you'll find "Monkey boy," classic power pop, bringing back the best of that glorious time when songs still punched with rock power brimming underneath sweet hummable melodies. This is the Knack done right. The Plimsouls roaring back to life. "No Angle to Lay Me Away," is my favorite track on this rock and roll road trip, laying down a shocking riff on top of shimmering Byrds-esque guitars. Classic 70's rock strutting right into that soaring chorus. The song is so infectious it makes the ebola virus look like the common cold. Guaranteed to seep directly into your skull where it'll embed itself forever into your grey matter. Play it loud. Play it often.

As our tour continues, "Bring it On Home," rages classic Ramones punk, three chords played at 100 mph. The road whisks by in a blur or roaring guitar, honky tonk piano and stuttering drums. Torn jeans flash by to your left, leather jackets to your right. Then, from out of nowhere, your Hellacopters mobile, veers hard at the junction, leading you down the classic Rolling Stones inspired "Leave it Alone." Slide guitars sound on top of a bluesy, funky rhythm track. The addition of female backing vocals takes us all back to our exile on mainstreet. Then "Murder on My Mind," chimes in, rekindling the classic power pop of yesteryear. With lyrics of potential homicide undermined by a sweet Beach Boys melody and a distinctly singable chorus, this is the Rubinoos on prison furlow. Squeeze on a work release program.

Turn the wheel and our road trip takes us past the Boston rocking of "I'm in the Band," (forever immortalized as a bonus song on Guitar Hero III) the Raspberries pop rock of "Put Out the Fire,"right to the Phil Spectre bubblegum punk of "I Might Come See You Tonight," all the way to the raving closer of "Time Got No Time To Wait For Me."

Now catch your breath. The road trip is complete. You've reached your destination. Rock and roll nirvana.

Sadly, word is that the Hellacopters have called it a day, victims of too much time on the very road they so effortlessly guided us down. Now, us folks at the Ripple just won't accept their resignation and we'll do everything in our power to rebuild this amazing rock and roll machine. Get them out to our garage festival with The Thieves and Mardo. They're far too essential to become just another lost band on the rock and roll highway.

So fire up your engines, boys. It's our turn to guide you back out to the freeway. We got lots more road trips to make.

--Racer

Buy here: Rock & Roll Is Dead

www.myspace.com/hellacopters








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