The Shortwave Set Replica Sun Machine by: Thomas Mendelovits Mon:07-Jul-08 Label: Wall of Sound Year: 2008 WB rating 30 out of 100

Music is more than just sounds. A record is more than songs. Songs are more than melodies, lyrics and rhythms. Melodies are more than notes, lyrics are more than words and rhythms are more than just beats. Usually, one doesn’t think this atomistically, but an album as totally unsatisfying as Replica Sun Machine brings this issue to the fore. Sure, a lot of people these days make music that sounds like other music. And that’s cool. It can even be beautiful. The Shortwave Set, however, impart neither cool nor beauty. Like its title suggests, Replica Sun Machine may be an ingenious concept album, but it will be forgotten immediately after its 15 minutes of fame are up.

The passing of Bo Diddley gives a good excuse to reflect on appropriation. Everyone went nuts when Jet ‘ripped off’ The Strokes/Iggy Pop/etc – and it was shameless – but without homage and borrowing, music would be a fraught quest for originality akin to Dr. Thoreau’s hilarious attempts at genetics. As critics, it can be a matter of pride to be able to name-check precedents. For example, a review of MGMT’s brilliant recent debut dedicated itself to dissecting each track according to who it could be: Bowie here, Creedence Clearwater Revival there. Indeed, just as one function of music criticism is to provide a reference point to readers, so too do bands feel pressured into channelling the ‘right’ influences. The same ‘tick-the-boxes’ measuring stick could be applied with Replica Sun Machine, but such an approach only goes so far. Music is more than just sounds, remember?

The reason Replica Sun Machine is such an unforgettable album is that The Shortwave Set know they are worthless. It’s not that they don’t try: the album has catchy, well-crafted songs brimming with accomplished arrangements. They are songs, however, reflective of an unconscious (or perhaps conscious, as these guys must be clever sorts), perhaps post-modern, condition of defeatism.

Band Member One: “Nothing is new.”
Band Member Two: “And it’s all so tiring.”
Band Member One: “But we’re good musicians… and songwriters…”
Band Member Two: “So… what? Shall we do this anyway?”

With this atmosphere pervading, complicit in a mood of world-weariness, they fail. The result succeeds neither in instilling emotive nostalgia (see the Oasis/Jet ballad ‘House of Lies’ or the Scott Walker/Morricone vibe of ‘Yesterdays To Come’) nor the reckless abandon such fun music can provoke. For examples, see the Bowie/ABBA glam of ‘Now to ’69’or the 60s film-music of ‘No Social’, and then compare them to The Darkness, MGMT or even Little Red. Other bands that have themselves done this kind of high-concept music are even represented: ‘Glitches ‘n’ Bugs’ with its male to female verse and male plus female chorus is practically a Fiery Furnaces tribute.

More hints are in the lyrics: “welcome to the house of lies/for you and I, it’s like paradise/you can do what you want and when you do, I’ll act like I’m surprised” (‘House of Lies’). In this house of lies anything is possible, even the camp ‘Now To ’69’: “they’ll be hot on the heels of the 69 wheels… when the band starts to play, it will all be okay, those girls in the back of the crowd face the stage and say “bee-bop-a-lula’ (‘Now to ‘69’). As Hitler remarked, “if one is to tell a lie, make it a big one”. Its pretty outrageous, but the fact that glam was already a 50s throwback doesn’t even figure in ‘Now to ‘69’s poor equation – it just sounds baseless and meaningless.

The level of self-consciousness displayed throughout Replica Sun Machine is high. But, as any liar will tell you, once you’ve told one, you’re embroiled and have to keep going. If an alien or future human found this in a million years, Replica Sun Machine would probably impress. Danger Mouse’s production lends a suitably metallic feel, and in their own right, the songs are fine enough. On ‘Replica’, the band intone: “your replica, your atom bomb, will keep you warm, will take you home”. The Shortwave Set may want this, but the message of ‘No Social’ is more fitting: “and they look down their nose at these so-and-sos, because everyone knows that a dog dressed in clothes, is still a dog”. A dog, indeed.