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Review of Moron Parade Sleep Hat from Delusions of Adequacy

As much as youth is the period of our lives where we try to find some semblance of personhood and stability in our emerging sense of identity, it seems somewhat strange that as soon as we reach the quasi-steadiness of adulthood we often begin searching for ways to redefine ourselves. Doing so can be horribly frightening, though, as we never really know if the identity we are embracing is going to bring us any more satisfaction than the one we discarded. To that extent, it can be very tempting to simply assume another character altogether, heading out into life as an anonymous new creation, free of an accumulated past and capable of shedding the baggage of our previous ways of relating to the world. In such cases, a little bit of obscurity and facelessness can be a comfort, leaving the path to retreat wide open if we need it, kicking dust over tracks that nobody ever needs to know existed. Anonymity can be a profound safeguard.

And while I wouldn't profess to know just why the members of Moron Parade decided to release their album with nothing more than a liner note saying this album was "written, performed, recorded, and mixed by a group of individuals who call themselves Moron Parade," it's apparent that no one is quite yet ready to put their name behind this band. I'm not exactly sure why, either, because their sophomore album is actually a generally impressive work, spanning 21 tracks and nearly an hour in length and featuring more lo-fi squall and careening guitar lines than a Pavement cover band. Of course, such comparisons only drive home the point that most of the tricks on these arrangements are called out of the "indie-rock playbook" circa 1994, but that's hardly a complaint, as the fact that angular guitars and distorted hooks may not be entirely original actually means that songwriters who use them have to be particularly proficient to deserve a second listen. These songs do.

From the seasick guitar lines and noisefest climax of "Chard" to the haunting minor key melody of "Grip," the band has a fairly strong grasp on the concept of dynamic tension, using slight variations and nuance within repetition to create something vaguely memorable. The muscular power riff shout-along of "Fexture Fix" is nicely balanced by the soft sway "Harpor" and sour vocals of the drowsy "Flurb," and the band seems equally comfortable turning out anthems as it does pensively unwinding guitar passages.

Even if no one is identified by name, it's obvious that a few songwriters are sharing duties here, with loud, bruising riffs generally balanced in number by more pensive, literate arrangements, although words are generally so low in the mix as to be indecipherable. Sure, the occasional line like "Let's go out and drink some beer / go outside and go insane" rises out of the ether, but it would seem that such maxims are issued with tongue firmly in cheek (at least, I would hope). Most impressive may be the instrumentals that make up roughly half of the set, with the elliptical grooves and messy rise and fall becoming nearly as compelling as those with vocals, although hearing the band's vocalists constantly jostle for position and shouting over each other is one of their most distinguishing characteristics.

Of course, this album could probably stand to have a little more engineering and production behind it, and the band could rock with a little more distinction if they allowed their personalities to come across a bit more boldly. Just as each individual band members' legal identity is not known, the band as a collective still seems to be growing towards finding their creative identity. All in all, it's a pretty good album and certainly not a bad second release; whoever made it should be fairly pleased with themselves. Next time, though, put your names on it.

- Matt Fink, 1/26/2004