Kevin Clay understands the real human need for razor-sharp pop music brimming with ideas for the brain, emotional substance for the heart, and hooks for the body. The song "Free" kicks off his latest album (once again recorded under his original band name, My Little Dog China) with all the sugar-crunching power pop of the Vibrators' "You Broke My Heart Into Little Tiny Pieces." The next song, "Rock 'N Roll," may steal its title from a Lou Reed song, but the choruses nick a Five Iron Frenzy hit, another band that understands something about art being fun and danceable. (Lou's "Coney Island Baby" actually shows up in the title track.) And so it goes throughout Game Face, each song wearing a new influence on its sleeve, sometimes a couple per song. If it wasn't for the blatant attempt to contrive youth group-affirmative lyrics, this would be the kind of fun, plagiaristic pop album to be considered both an act of true love and theft.
But who is Kevin Clay anyway? I first heard My Little Dog China in the Soul Food 76 VW van in '92, as I was lying on the floor in the back. Daniel Fairbanks had scored a four song demo tape from MLDC, and was blaring it on his gritty car stereo, the downtuned, homerecorded fuzz chords rumbling through the floor of the bus. It sounded like a giant rip-off of our own town's sound from the past couple years, with a strange heartland tweaking, Southern boogie flavor, and yet the songs were genuinely intriguing. The singer's lyrics seemed somewhat genuinely cerebral, although veiled in quasi-poetic ambiguity (a trend for this style of band back then). The album that resulted from that demo, The Velvis Carnival, wasn't bad at all. It has stood the test of time, as a grunge-inflected spiritual rock work, very typical of the better records of its time period. The follow up on Alarma! (recorded under his own name), Watch Me Fall was much more original, but showed for the first time Clay's vivacious talent at writing very tight, fresh-sounding rock music. Unfortunately, Mr. Clay seems to show a need to actually have something to say, thus making his success in the sanctified pop market a little dicey (see "Date Rape" here). NashVegas, his humungous, startlingly political and confessional two CD masterpiece/monstrosity (easily the best pop album an utterly awake Mike Knott never made), seemed intended to put a feral fang into the leg of his career.
So what if Clay wants to revert to the MLDC moniker and record snappy religious anthems? I wish him well. He deserves reward for his obvious talent, though I think there has to be some sort of middle ground between this sort of compromise and NashVegas. Then again, I also think Daniel Amos should sell as many records as Linkin Park. Some things don't have monetary value, inevitably.
Editors' ratings - Doug 3/5, Jason 2.5/5
