Wavves

King of the Beach (2010)

C.M. Crockford

Man, Wavves is weird. Here I am, stabbing another blunt into the dust of the ashtray, but I don't think I need one to listen to this whiny, savant-like nutjob. Look, Wavves is kinda brilliant, a singular weirdo who has written two albums that are almost satirical about their own hatefulness and "sunny" disposition. He models himself after Green Day and Cali punk, but until recently wrapped it around a Wall of Trash sound.

His new record, King of the Beach is a classic third album model. His sound is more polished, with even more of a pop-punk sound, and power-pop handclaps show up often, and tambourines too. Jay Reatard's old backing band is on the record and it shows--the drums hit hard and fast, and it sounds less like a bedroom project (the vocals beg to differ, as always) and more like a backing band. This ain't a bad thing--just different, and I suspect that Wavves could get some decent album sales if he sold out properly. This ain't to say, though, that the album isn't weird sounding--his vocals and guitar are still processed through a messed haze of stabbed stereos and the ghosts of Phillip Spector.

The songs are funny, bizarre and more self-loathing this time around. His lyrics are apologetic for his recent douchebaggery, desperate to claim his title as "King of the Beach," and declaring at one point that "My feet are stuck in the ground / And they're never coming out." I don't think a punk rocker has ever said "I'm a plant" like that, although GG Allin said many strange things.

Anyway, Wavves. His new record rules. He's a good guy--one of us, a bit of an indie freak, but just as fucked up and hateful as us leather jacket-wearing weirdos.