Let's get the formalities and the predictabilities out the way right off the bat. Wives are a straight up rock band from Los Angeles whose main claim to fame is that their singer's car got hit by a reckless driving Backstreet Boy - the blonde one, if memory serves. The money from the resulting settlement allowed him to set up his own record label, Post-Present Medium, which has in turn released the bulk of Wives records thus far. That's the blatant copying from the Press Kit out of the way then.
The band has been around for a few years now releasing a handful of 7"s and splits; Erect the Youth Problem is their first full-0length which was originally released stateside on Cold Sweat a year ago and has just been licensed to Sweet Nothing for a UK release. Erect the Youth Problem should see the band taking a significant step upwards in terms of exposure and touring further a field, so if not quite a "make or break" record it's certainly an important one in the bands admittedly young career.
After taking a quizzical glance and one or two previous reviews for this album I was struck by two things. Firstly, the numbers of writers who drop band names like The Blood Brothers and Daughters! They sound nothing like them. Secondly, and this probably ties in with the first thing, the number of people who blatantly rip off the PR sheet is ridiculous. Claiming Wives sound like Minor Threat is wholly inaccurate and who the fuck really uses the word "noiseniks"? Kerrang, please stop being lazy and stupid.
To me, Wives are just a straight up underground rock band. Relatively basic playing, thundering drums and feedback covering everything. Dean Allen Spunt's vocals are all screams and course shouts as he tries to keep up with the high speed of the music. Erect the Youth Problem is pretty much one paced, but has enough energy and doesn't hang around too long - only one song is over three minutes - so equally doesn't get the chance to get boring. Big Black mixed with Oxes, Wrangler Brutes and pre- Bowie influenced Stooges. Yes, that shall do.
The lyrical approach is reminiscent on Henry Rollin's era Black Flag: anger, frustration and a general feeling that some would incorrectly label as blind nihilism. It works though, proving relatively interesting reading (you'll need the inlay card to help you, trust me) and thankfully doesn't fall into any (or many) hardcore clichés. There is also a humorous flicker here and there, which keeps things interesting: "When I smoke, I smoke tobacco fields. When I drink, its 30 deep."
Now all The Wives really has to do is get themselves added as support to a forthcoming tour by Lightning Bolt or some such band, and watch as their popularity steadily goes skywards.
