The city stoops to take the weight

Image: Seasprayblue

Silent Hotels - The Answering Machine

Turns out the new indie rock anthems are pretty much built on the old specs. "Silent Hotels," a superior example of the contemporary model, offers the indignant plaints and brittle rattle of Chapel Hill circa 1994 (not to mention Minneapolis, 1983). When Martin Colclough sings, It just hit me, in this city/ I talk to myself and drink til I'm sick, he's reaching the epiphany of decades of twentysomething urbanites.

But hey, nostalgia's cool. And the kids gotta learn it for themselves. Plus, The Answering Machine has some neat new tricks in its lo-fi, hi-volume arsenal. The guitars clang like bells on a shiny red toy firetruck -- cheerier than Archers of Loaf or The Replacements on their most optimistic mornings. And the vocal shout-and-response is like a game of tug of war. You know, rough, dirty ... fun.

From Silent Hotels single (eMusic). Myspace