Car Stereo Wars - For Your Comfort and Safety (Album)
The band that cleverly named itself during the inner Melbourne boutique strip of Prahran’s plague of “Chapel Street hoons” and tracksuit laden drive-by subwoofers (has much changed?), did so with deep irony as these Car Stereo Wars look and sound completely opposite, coming more from the college of indie easy listening than anything.
The intelligent, gripping opener that is Smooth clearly matches its own title plus that of the album, with no irony to speak of in Alyssa Doe’s idyllic vocals. Triple J pick, the appropriately titled Radio Edit bounces in like a Labrador but more info on this track later, as lap steel in hand CSW veer a tangent down Punt Road for third track Broken, where lyrically and vocally The Underground Lovers’ Philippa Nihil channels Suzanne Vega crossed with Art of Fighting’s Peggy Frew.
Though not coupled in the track list, Radio Edit and November go together like cold beer and cigarettes, without damaging our health. Between their similar geek-pop hooks, handclaps and “doo-doo” harmonies I expect them to break into “b-a-d-m-i-n-t-o-n!” like Perth’s The Bank Holidays did on their Greatest Game. In short, November is just plain ace… a real album highlight.
Nothing says electronic French ‘stique like the Air-like Alone, its simple though rather special keyboard progression the type that gets in your ear, makes you listen hard and then wants you to play it yourself, another highlight.
The writing, instrumentation, vocals and production of core fellows Jason White and Matt Gillman, along with the aforementioned Doe with Sean Ashbrooke and Graeme Luther are all top notch. This album features no less than four cellists, evidenced on tracks ala Dearheart (remix) plus there’s a heap of other players throughout. Obvious sponge-worthy Ministry of Sound moments Come to Nothing (as seen on MOS Chillout Session 5)and Broken (MOS Summer Collection 2004) actually have less hammock potential than that of Dearheart or its blissful following tune the piano friendly, softly trumpeted Down. A one-minute high pitched instrumental Little Alarm wakes us gently before the album’s title track and purty closing theme, complete with twee whistling and all the room in the world for a little dog’s bark, even if only in my head.
With a number of jump-backs to previous EPs this is almost now a compilation, but eight years or so has made for a bloody good wrap. Turn it up, sit back and enjoy the ride, b’yatch.
