L_ocal slack-rock outfit Embarrassing Fruits is deceptively casual. But don’t let it fool you.
Frontier Justice_, the Trekky band’s sophomore full-length, is an impressive collection of idle anthems that evoke the same weed-smoking, flannel-wearing aesthetic of ’90s greats Pavement and Archers of Loaf.
But behind a familiar façade, Embarrassing Fruits channels its sound in unconventional and unexpected directions.
In many ways, the term “frontier” in the record’s title is an apt one. Where oft-cited influences still maintain a major foothold in the group’s latest, the band embarks on a decidedly new path.
Sure, it draws on beloved sounds, but Frontier Justice also creates new and unanticipated ones.
“Long Distance Breakup Summer” exemplifies the balance the band strikes between expected evocations and imaginative songwriting. At a little over three minutes, it’s a quick and hard-hitting tale of a bad news hookup set to a grinding, lucid bass line.
Lyrically, it’s a brazen rant about a friend with a “seven and a half-month itch” who ends up pairing off with a “skinny bitch,” but melodically, it veers from the prescribed alt-rock formula. Its slow, weaving melody changes tempo briefly as it reaches the song’s chorus, weaving a tale that’s as touching as it is apathetic.
Where some of the band’s predecessors muddled incoherent prose with hurried, power-chord heavy riffs, there’s a sense of intentionality on Frontier Justice that distinguishes it from contemporaries and forebears alike.
It’s no wimpy indie pop record, but for an album so rooted in slack rock, there’s a startling and impressive sense of craftsmanship. You won’t find strings or glockenspiels, but the Fruits’ guitars, bass and drum set cover wide and innovative expanses that unfold more and more with each listen.
As a fast-paced narrative about drug-induced love, “Sugar Train” is one of the album’s highlights, boasting, “You’re a hot little heart attack / and I know you like to dance when you’re on cocaine.” It’s a tongue-in-cheek epic whose lyrics transmit with the same bravado as Superchunk’s “Slack Motherfucker.”
