Voxtrot's first full-length album fails

By Joey Vergara

Published May 1, 2007

If there's one band that seems to have all the ingredients to be successful in 2007, it's Voxtrot.

The Austin-based band has received plenty of blog praise and hype for both its upcoming self-titled record and its live shows. After two self-released EPs (Raised by Wolves, and Mothers, Sisters, Daughters & Wives), the band signed to Playlouderrecordings and settled down to record its first full-length album, a collection of its most endearing pop anthems.

The only question that remains is: Why does the album sound so uninspired when, by all means, it should sound great?

Things start off on a brilliant, albeit dramatic, note with the ingeniously titled "Introduction." A twinkling guitar line and strings lead the buildup to what becomes one of the album's better moments and a fine introduction to the better side of what Voxtrot has to offer.

Many of the songs on Voxtrot end up sounding like a mix of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and We Are Scientists, which would not be so bad if Voxtrot was actually either of those bands. Traditional drumrolls, anticlimactic build-ups and quickly spewed lyrics are old cards that Voxtrot continues to play throughout the entire record.

Among the assortment of trite and tired tracks lies the genuinely interesting ones. The band plays with a Pixies-esque soft/loud tradeoff and irregular instrumentation (stray guitar-picking, buzzing synths) on "Firecracker." Voxtrot sounds best at its loudest and messiest.

"Kid Gloves" provides the same sort of respite from the dull with its conventional, yet commanding, rock arrangement. The only downside is the ridiculous self-deprecating lyrics: "Cheer me up, cheer me up, I'm a miserable fuck/ Cheer me up, cheer me up, I'm a tireless bore."

Influences continue to seep in throughout the record as "Steven" evokes the Piano Man at his most cheerful. Although the energetic piano works well, for once, on this song, the overused string accompaniment is still a bit unnecessary.

"Real Live Version," the other piano-driven track on Voxtrot, is plain cheesy because of vocalist Ramesh Srivastava's lame lyrics, melodramatic falsetto and a bare-bones production sound.

Things get weird near the end of the record on "The Future Pt. 1." The track itself is a half alt country, half '60s pop that might have been heard on an episode of "The Wonder Years" if Voxtrot were around at the time. If everything works out well, there will never be a "The Future Pt. 2."

If it wasn't enough for Voxtrot to follow in the footsteps of so many other bands, the album closer, "Blood Red Blood," sounds like Voxtrot covering Voxtrot. The same melodies are replayed, and the same problems occur. In a way, the track is a summation of the entire experience of listening to Voxtrot's debut: It ends unexpectedly and is almost completely forgettable.

For all its flawlessly catchy hooks and indie-pop tricks, Voxtrot's debut is a major letdown. The sophomore slump has definitely struck the band early, but the potential for improvement can be heard throughout the record.