k i l l e r POP

In an article in New West in 1981, Greil Marcus wrote of Delta 5's debut album: "Hey, we've got a good, rough little band here--guitar, two basses, drums, our own sound, our own point of view--how about a horn section? Why not some steel guitar? Piano! I know, sound effects! Say, doesn't your grandfather play accordion?" Just as the most basic elements of postpunk rhythm have plagued popular and underground music of the past 3 years, Marcus's problem with the Delta's debut seems to afflict the debut efforts of Orlando's indie-rockers, in particular Band Marino, who released their debut album, The Sea & The Beast, on December 2nd.

Band Marino, is fronted by Nathan Bond [vocals, guitar] and his merry men: Abe Couch, bass, vocals; Dylon York, drums; Jesse Adams, guitar, vocals, jaw harp, mandolin, harmonica; and Jonathan Nee, banjo, vocals, keyboard, mandolin, jaw harp, and train whistle. Let me catch my breath. Okay. Aside from that arsenal, they often employ Sean Moore [you know, the guy who plays violin for every band in Orlando] and Nee even had an accordian at the last show. Delta 5, eat your heart out. Now certainly an array of instruments like that have been used in countless other bands, and I agree that it can sound good when it's done right. The problem with a lot of local bands is they try to pack too much sound into what's essentially a tiny container. In their live show, many of the extra instruments either blend well or are lost in the noise, but how well does that translate to a record?

After their "CD release show" (bands don't release albums anymore apparently), I felt utterly bored by not only the regurgitated Dylan/Pixies local indie sound that had gotten stale this many years in, but by the plague of retro-country rock enveloping Orlando's indie scene and the blatant attempts by the band (Marino) to place themselves as close to arena rock or U2 as a little Florida band could. It's no secret that Band Marino want to be huge; the ellaborate decorations and themes employed for the show, the lighting effects used to introduce the band, Bond, Nee, and Couch even lined up and did a rock god power stance together. By time I got home and was ready to listen to the album (sorry, CD), I was scared to even hear "Every Time I Make A Girl Cry I Know I've Done My Job,""Feel It In The Air," and "Arlee Hayes" because of how wonderful I thought the acoustic demos were. But before I could even get to those (which are all back-to-back on the CD), I had to get past the first four tracks.

"American Patriot" opens the CD, and to say the least, I put my foot in my mouth. This number is one of my and the crowd's favorites at shows for it's intense energy and it's use of a train whistle, which is one of the few non-traditional instruments that helps instead of hurts as it's used sparingly, accenting the clash of all the instruments in the verses. Though the energy of the live show wasn't captured on the track (though how many bands pull that off), it serves as perfect document of the band's sound whose ehteral overtones grow on the listener with each repeated listen and perfectly segues to the next song, "I Have A Dream."

Track 2 does an equally fantastic job with its haunting sound and guitar stabs. "Chasing Rainbows" follows as one of the only welcome country attempts. Written during a summer on the road, it evokes that mood with its old-fashion starry-eyed headin' west tone, but the further along it gets, the more agitating it becomes. For the next five songs, it's up and down; each song having it's high and low points, from the whiny country that pokes out of almost every track, to the horrible cock-rock guitar eruptions in "Feel It In The Air" and "Someday We All Must Die."

As I feared, the three songs crystallized in the Summer Beard acoustic demos were stripped of their former beauty. The problem wasn't being electrified, as in live shows they are still great songs, but what had made the songs so good in the acoustic versions was that Bond's laments and the pain and longing in his voice were left echoing in your head for hours. They are perfect examples of ballads and do a better job evoking their country breatheren than any of the forced attempts throughout the rest of the album do. "Every Time I Make A Girl Cry" goes even farther by using the medium to sarcastically tell off a girl that the narrator no longer desires. As if not evident enough in the title, lyrics like "I can do better than you, and that's exactly what I plan to do" get the point across. By the time of the album version though, any significance in Bond's voice or lyrics are lost to the unsatisfying music. Here, they're just another hand full of modern rock songs, better forgotten.

"Como Se Dice Senorita, Act I: The Layman's Lament" picks things back up with its ballad-to-brawler rollercoaster rhythm and renders a fairly faithful version of the live number which always gets the crowd in frantic motion. Short-lived, the album ends with two ballads, "Song For A Melody" and "Dear Balladeer" which feel more like background music taking you out of "Como Se Dice," what should have ended the album.

By no means a failure, the album would have served a much better function as an EP. But as it was, the album felt as disappointing as the show. Take this from a fan who honestly wants a great and lasting version of some of his favorite local songs and is wanting to love it, but just can't. In the end, it's just a lot of hype, flashy designs and decorations, and a bunch of friends all preaching to the converted. Everything feels too manufactured. Not just the music, but the show's finale. After returning for an encore of three songs, the band closed with their rocked-out cover of Pixies's "Where Is My Mind?," in the middle of which, a 'roadie' came and switched out Bond's guitar with no audible difference before. I soon realized the reason when the song was ending in pre-taped chaos and Bond valiantly struggled to snap the neck of the guitar against the stage using the force of his foot. After some time, he managed to break it and shove the splintered neck into one of the Tom drums. that's about as punk rock as a Hillary Duff shirt.

At the end of the album as the with the end of the show, I recalled when Brad from Summerbirds In The Cellar came up onstage during Marino's set to pronounce "Band Marino is the greatest band in Orlando." And just like before, when the music was over, I wondered "What does that mean?"