• Hurrah
• Merge Records
Are Versus merely the best Pinoy band playing on US shores? Or are they something even better?
With their newest release, Hurrah, New York’s Versus (consisting of three Filipinos – Patrick Ramos, brothers Richard and James Baluyut – and bassist/singer Fontaine Toups) lasso some of their best punk impulses to craft their poppiest album yet. Strangely, the world has not yet stopped turning.
What makes Versus a band that even local alternative acts love to emulate? A strong sense of melody and a unique, wide-eyed innocence help. Richard Baluyut and Fontaine Toups still stutter out their lyrics (mostly about boy-girl relationships) like a couple of kids, amazed to be in front of a microphone. There’s a certain folkie charm weaving through this album (like the boy-girl harmonies and "Na-na-na-na-na" chorus of Play Dead), as well as a willingness to try different song forms (i.e., the country-ish twang of The Spell You’re Under). Add a trumpet line here or there (My Adidas), a few tentative piano riffs (Walkabout), even a mellotron (on Frederick’s of Hollywood), and voila: alternative experimentation!
But just as in their earlier Secret Swingers and Two Cents Plus Tax, the lifeline for Versus is the guitar: beneath the almost-naive song structures, a maelstrom usually threatens, ready to explode by the first chorus. This is where Versus still owe a lot to New York cousins Sonic Youth. Richard’s laconic drawl has often been compared to Thurston Moore’s, but it’s the white-noise squall of Richard’s and James’ guitars that conjure up that older, noisier band.
Just as with Sonic Youth, product names and pop culture play a continuing part in Versus’ lyrics: My Adidas, Frederick’s of Hollywood, and (my favorite title) I Love the WB all suggest the band has been watching too much TV, or else sitting around at mail-order catalogues. The aforementioned Frederick’s probably has the most interesting song structure: the opening sounds like an outtake from Thurston Moore’s solo album; the middle gradually dissolves into Aerosmith’s Dream On before winding up again to a punk climax, complete with shards of guitar and feedback. But strangely, it feels like a concession to their former selves: a bow to their punk past.
What’s more to the point on Hurrah is an emphasis on chord progressions and complex harmonies, reminiscent of (gasp!) Steely Dan in Walkabout and the bemused, pretty Shangri-la. Compared to its furious predecessor, Two Cents Plus Tax, there’s a mellower vibe going on in Hurrah (check out Richard’s wistful Sayonara, for instance), suggesting a band resigned to growing up.
Hurrah is no quantum leap forward, sorry to say. Rather, it’s a minor retinkering of a formula that clearly works for the band. Generally speaking, it’s almost impossible for bands not to progress; unless a band is truly worthless, they try out different things, while trying to remain true to themselves. Somewhere in the core of this increasingly pop-minded group is the germ of Versus that originally made people stand up and take notice.