Crash Romeo

Pop punk is a kid’s game. Or at least, pop punk of the post-blink-182 variety. The nasally, nearly prepubescent vocals, adolescent, male-centric angst, and super clean musical compositions really only stuck with me when I was still in high school, circa ages 14-17. Post-blink, like Neverland, is not for registered voters, legal drinkers, or anyone who owns a gun. In fact, don’t bother the guy holding the gun with this trite.

Age is what ultimately holds me back from enjoying post-blink pop punk, other than the bands I already loved back in high school. Case in point: When listening to Crash Romeo’s new album Gave Me the Clap, I took breaks to listen to my own music, just so I could get the taste of sugar and gonorrhea out of my mouth. The records I unthinkingly turned to were August Premier’s Fireworks and Alcohol and Midtown’s Save the World, Lose the Girl, two records which I’m sure bothered old people upon their release. Hell, punknews heavyweight greg0rb himself thought Fireworks and Alcohol was shit back in 2003.

The point of this extended ramble is this: I hate Crash Romeo, and I don’t know if it’s because they legitimately suck, or because, like Danny Glover, I’m getting too old for this shit. The band offers nothing lyrically insightful (fave lines: “I wanna feel it / Can you feel it, yeah / I wanna see you rip my heart out / And give it back to me the way it used to be”) nor musically compelling. It’s all spit-shined vocals and sterile guitar chords. It’s like if Simple Plan collectively had their heads caved with rocks, but retained the part of the brain that allows them to play instruments. At least the title is kinda funny.

The songs are also funny, but unintentionally so. In a way, I don’t even need to write a review, since you could easily check out Matt Whelihan’s review of the band’s first album (Hey Matt, careful with the sarcasm next time. CR’s publicist quoted your review like it was a good thing). Crash Romeo has achieved zero artistic growth between LPs one and two. There’s precious little to entice listeners, unless you like your Starting Line tunes reheated and overproduced. Even when the band bothers to cough up a decent hook, like on the title track, they end up abusing it until it’s lost all meaning. When Crash Romeo called their record Gave Me the Clap, they weren’t kidding. These guys are about as enticing as a painful vaginal discharge.