Look, I’m lately feeling a little sick of rock ‘n’ roll, OK? Sick of studied “rebelliousness,” sick of black leather jackets, sick of bands selling “passion,” “edge,” and “redemption,” and sick of fame-hungry guitarists trying to be mysterious and sexy. And believe me, when the entire rock ‘n’ pop scene starts to sound like just a lot of boring, unoriginal noise (rappers excepted, of course), bands like Shrimp Boat become that much more precious. I admire the deliciously paradoxical way Shrimp Boat’s music, superficially so raw and jagged, opens up to reveal a childlike gentleness at its core. This elusive feeling is captured particularly well on their wonderful new LP, Speckly, a record that makes no sonic compromises–which may not get these soft-spoken guys anywhere careerwise, but which is nonetheless (dare I say it?) beautiful. On it you’ll hear songs of Appalachian nursery-rhyme simplicity being spun off into beguiling variations blessedly free of wimpiness, sarcasm, and the excessive rock ‘n’ roll boom-thwacking that so often takes the “folk” out of folk-rock. It’s true that Shrimp Boat may not be a band for everyone–a lot of what they do is musically “wrong”; and while I find their tortured-cat falsetto harmonizing inexpressibly engaging, it might strike other ears as hopelessly amateurish. Likewise, I’ll admit that when bassist David Kroll doubles on tenor sax, he sounds more like a Pribilof seal than King Curtis–but the strange sounds that come out of his horn seldom fall to bring a smile to my face. Anyway, the important thing is that this is real music, not just four assholes trying to be cool. At least–knock on wood–I hope not. Tonight, Edge of the Lookingglass, 62 E. 13th; 939-4017. Saturday, Phyllis’ Musical Inn, 1800 W. Division; 486-9862.
