White Denim - Fits

Damn these journalistic clichés.

Everything these days is ‘on acid’. Stick ‘on acid’ after a reference point and, hey presto: you’ve got a neat little comparison, a nice box to stick those pesky ground-breaking acts in. Trouble is, White Denim sound as if they are actually on acid. Not in the manner of a trendy back-catalogue spotter, but Timothy Leary style, the sun erupting into flames that burst deep into the mysteries of the human soul style... ACID.

Crawling out of the hinterlands of Texas, White Denim is a six-legged beast that’s operated on the sidelines of American rock for a while now. Trends have come and gone, leaving ‘Fits’ as the band’s second album to date. But while it’s easy to feel frustrated that White Denim aren’t skinny dipping in a swimming pool full of dollar bills, it’s gratifying to witness a band who are able to evolve on their own terms, without the distraction of media hype.

‘Fits’ opens with the jagged stop-start rhythms of ‘Radio Milk How Can You Stand It’. Never sitting in one place, White Denim’s music moves like a pendulum switching from one point to the next. Drums scatter like pounding rainfall before a screaming wah wah guitar blows the whole thing to smithereens. Sure, Hendrix ain’t the hippest cat to namedrop any more but take it as read: these sons of bitches can wail. ‘Say What You Want’ opens all Black Sabbath bluster before moving into something approaching the pastoral, except the production is so dense the guitars never lose their edge, like Hells Angels standing menacingly at the edge of a love in. The Indian elements of the song recall the much-derided experiments of the past, guitars and bass duelling in territory that sits dangerously close to Austin Powers land.

However ‘Fits’ is that rare thing: a non-retro psychedelic album. ‘I Start To Run’ sparks and flames like prime-era Minutemen, full of bass spasms and military order vocals. It helps that White Denim have such obviously short attention spans – most of the tracks on the album clock in under three-and-a-half minutes, meaning that the band never run of the risk of becoming indulgent since they don’t actually stay around long enough.

Which isn’t to say that White Denim are afraid of stretching out. ‘Mirrored And Reverse’ sits atop keyboard flourishes, with the guitar plucking harp-like notes before the band groove on out. But the rhythms are just so damn tasty, so inventive and continually moving that it’s difficult not to become involved. Course, way back when this was called dance music – y’know, before samplers came along and took all the fun out of everything.

‘Fits’ closes with the placid tones of ‘Sync’n’, with singer James Petralli’s vocals sounding as if they were recorded into a Walkman. Rough and ready, it retains something personal, something unique about his voice that would be lost amidst the maze of pro-tools and auto-tune. There’s something about White Denim that sits simultaneously in the past whilst pointing to the future. They’re a puzzle, for sure, but then the best innovators never sat easily in a box. That’s why they were innovators. Best not to worry – just turn on, tune in and drop out.

8/10