There’s nothing wrong with the new album released by The Academy Is… Fast Times at Barrington High has a pure college rock sound, some decent melodies and a few catchy hooks scattered here and there. It’s a perfectly serviceable album.
The problem though is that aside from a few tracks, nothing really standouts. Rumored Nights is a good track but it sounds an awful lot like everything else on the radio these days (Metro Station, Rogue Wave, We the Kings -- take your pick). That makes a track like Crowded Room an interesting diversion, even though the song is virtually unlistenable.
The best of the Fast Times comes at the beginning before the sound starts to blend the tracks in with one another. About a Girl and Summer Hair = Forever Young are both stellar (and not surprisingly, released as singles ahead of the full release). But too soon, the album starts to take on this unwaveringly monotonous feel. I didn’t hate the album but by the time I got to the last handful of tracks, like Paper Chase, I felt like I was just listening to the same track on repeat.
So maybe there is a reason that Extreme fell into obscurity after its funky, friendly release Pornograffitti. The album, boosted by the ubiquitous rock ballad More Than Words, came in 1990. It is, by and large, the only palatable music that the Boston-based band has ever released.
Sad because I mistakenly had high hopes for the new album Saudades de Rock. The thing is…it’s just terrible. It does sound like Extreme. Gary Cherone has pretty distinct vocals and isn’t afraid to rap once in a while (more like a Debbie Harry rap than Eminem though). But the harmonies are mostly missing on Saudades de Rock (which according to Wikipedia is Portuguese for “we used to be famous”) and the songs are just really, really not fun.
I think that’s maybe what draws the biggest distinction between Pornograffitti and Saudades de Rock. Extreme’s second album had this weird joyous vibe. It was a little dirty, a little glam, but mostly it was just dumb fun. I mean, sheesh Get the Funk Out (which my mom made me turn off assuming they were dropping the F-bomb.) Let’s face it, it pretty much doesn’t get any more “sleepover prank” then replacing the ‘c’ with an ‘n’. I hear Paul Geary giggling in his sleeping bag.
Nothing here matches either the sheer silliness of Decadence Dance or the jolly groove of Hole Hearted. King of the Ladies is just dreadful. Run evokes, either deliberately or accidentally, the shrill breaking glass of Fame ’90. Ghost, a heart-felt ballad I’m sure, just makes you want to ask “why did you ever record this?”
The worst of the lot is the painful screech of Last Hour which, of all things, reminds me of the reunited train wreck known as Van Halen with David Lee Roth demolishing their hit Jump on tour this year. The lead single, Star, also happens to be the first track on the album. If you make it through that, the rest might actually seem okay to you.
I want to say Extreme fans deserve better, but what fans? Run from this one as fast as your little feet can carry you.
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