Jeff The Brotherhood – We Are The Champions

These guys are, for all intents and purposes, blowing up. A “buzz band” at South By Southwest, they’ve made appearances on late night television and movie soundtracks. So I hope that no one minds, considering thepunksite.com’s relative obscurity compared to, I don’t know, Rolling Stone (who apparently love these dudes), when I say that I found We Are The Champions reasonably boring, give or take a few moments.  Comprised of two brothers from Nashville, Jeff The Brotherhood is one of those frustrating bands that have potential oozing out of them like swampgas. It’s just too bad that so much of that potential results in songs and ideas that, to me, don’t necessarily work. What to some may sound like a perfect blending of pysch, prog, garage rock and power pop, sounds to me like two dudes who are trying to do too much in too little time. The result is frequently a cacophonous mess.

This is Jeff The Brotherhood’s 5th LP. Once the listener slogs through the first track, a trudging quasi-prog noodlefest called “Hey Friend”, a few interesting things happen. The second track, “Cool Out”, is a fun, buzzsaw blast akin to a less-precise Descendents. It’s fast, bouncy, and joyous, and the band begins to turn into something eminently listenable. Throughout the rest of the album, it’s kind of a two steps forward, one step back kind of thing. There are some genuinely great songs scattered throughout – the guitar lines in “Stay Up Late” and “Shredder”, and the almost solemn Brit-pop leanings of “Diamond Way” are all fantastic. But attempts at 50s balladry on “Endless Fire” and the droning, sitar-laced “Health And Strength” do little more than bring the album’s momentum to a thunderous halt.

On one hand I want to say that kudos should be given for their apparent fearlessness in the studio, even if the songs that come out as a result aren’t always all that great. On the other hand, (and while it’s clearly a personal preference) I’d say that songs like “Wastoid Girl”, with its Weezer-like structure coupled with a wah-wah guitar solo, are almost entirely unnecessary. When the band sticks to a particular formula, they can blow the goddamn doors off the place. They’re a great, energetic two-piece garage rock band. But who wants to stick to a formula, right? Yet when they do venture beyond that, and verge into psych territory, my attention wanders. Unfortunately, that trick – when in doubt, put in an effect or use a pedal on a guitar solo – is one that happens all too often on We Are The Champions.