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"The Artist works in a museum
And that museum is rocknroll
In a world of meme punk rockabilly grandads
It’s the classicists that really have something to say.
Straight lines, hooks, and a clear path to your heart.
They might not be dbeat heart throbs
But no one else can give you that
feeling that you can hold on to a moment
Like you are driving too fast down route 60
And it’s never going to end.
In 20 years when you skulk the dark alleyways of wherever punk’s red fern grows, they won’t be talking about Dwight Twilley, the Looks, or the Nerves, they will be looking for a little CLASS."
Our take: I know Class’s latest LP, If You’ve Got Nothing, dropped a few months ago, but I gave it another listen this week and the record sucked me in so fully that I have to give it a late Record of the Week shout-out. Whenever I put on a Class record, my first thought is, “god damn it this band is so fucking great.” They have a classic sound rooted in mid-70s power-pop… the Flamin’ Groovies, the Nerves, and the like. While many of the pretty boys who emulate those tones write tunes that leave me cold, Class has the songwriting prowess to evoke this storied era without sounding like a hollow echo. If You’ve Got Nothing starts with two of its strongest numbers. “Public Void” reminds me of Eddy Current Suppression Ring in its laid-back delivery, the drummer playing fast but behind the beat while the bass player lays down a rock solid groove. While the song builds to a climactic chorus, it also makes room for a couple of extended instrumental breaks where two lead guitars twist tangled, Television-esque knots. Next is “Behind the Ball,” whose huge vocal hook in the chorus is sing-along-able enough to warrant a comparison to the Exploding Hearts. There are plenty of highlights through the rest of the LP (like the bratty, near-hardcore of “Burning Cash”), but it takes an interesting turn on the final track, “Grid Stress,” where a different vocalist takes the mic and Class dives into full-on Blue Oyster Cult worship. It fucking RULES. When you look at how prolific Class has been—two albums and two substantial EPs in barely two years—you’d assume the quality would vary, but there isn’t much, if anything, I’d leave on the cutting room floor. If you love a great pop/rock tune played with skill and feeling by actual humans (not computers), get some Class in your collection right now.
And that museum is rocknroll
In a world of meme punk rockabilly grandads
It’s the classicists that really have something to say.
Straight lines, hooks, and a clear path to your heart.
They might not be dbeat heart throbs
But no one else can give you that
feeling that you can hold on to a moment
Like you are driving too fast down route 60
And it’s never going to end.
In 20 years when you skulk the dark alleyways of wherever punk’s red fern grows, they won’t be talking about Dwight Twilley, the Looks, or the Nerves, they will be looking for a little CLASS."
Our take: I know Class’s latest LP, If You’ve Got Nothing, dropped a few months ago, but I gave it another listen this week and the record sucked me in so fully that I have to give it a late Record of the Week shout-out. Whenever I put on a Class record, my first thought is, “god damn it this band is so fucking great.” They have a classic sound rooted in mid-70s power-pop… the Flamin’ Groovies, the Nerves, and the like. While many of the pretty boys who emulate those tones write tunes that leave me cold, Class has the songwriting prowess to evoke this storied era without sounding like a hollow echo. If You’ve Got Nothing starts with two of its strongest numbers. “Public Void” reminds me of Eddy Current Suppression Ring in its laid-back delivery, the drummer playing fast but behind the beat while the bass player lays down a rock solid groove. While the song builds to a climactic chorus, it also makes room for a couple of extended instrumental breaks where two lead guitars twist tangled, Television-esque knots. Next is “Behind the Ball,” whose huge vocal hook in the chorus is sing-along-able enough to warrant a comparison to the Exploding Hearts. There are plenty of highlights through the rest of the LP (like the bratty, near-hardcore of “Burning Cash”), but it takes an interesting turn on the final track, “Grid Stress,” where a different vocalist takes the mic and Class dives into full-on Blue Oyster Cult worship. It fucking RULES. When you look at how prolific Class has been—two albums and two substantial EPs in barely two years—you’d assume the quality would vary, but there isn’t much, if anything, I’d leave on the cutting room floor. If you love a great pop/rock tune played with skill and feeling by actual humans (not computers), get some Class in your collection right now.