The Transit War, Miss Your Face

You can’t always help what you like or dislike. That’s just human nature; even the über-hippest SuicideGirls-reading, LiveJournal-typing hipster can’t help but tap their feet to some of the uncoolest music on the planet, I guarantee you. And really, why shouldn’t they? If it moves you, it moves you, even if you don’t want to admit it. This is the reason “guilty pleasures” lists really don’t work for me; why feel guilty about liking something if you really, truly like it? Hell, why do you even have to be “ironic” about it? If you like The Darkness because you think they rock and “I Believe In a Thing Called Love” makes you feel like you’re fifteen all over again, great; on the flip side, if you like The Darkness because you think they’re over-the-top and silly, hey, that’s great, too.

All the differentiation, the hot-or-not bullshit is just an updated way for hipper-than-thou music fanatics to feel superior to others, period. Remember getting picked on in middle school because you didn’t wear the right clothes or have the right haircut? Well, welcome to the big bad world, friend; if you snigger at people who listen to Nickelback or Christina Aguilera, you’ve become what you always hated. Now, if you honestly don’t like something, then by all means, feel free to say so — I, for example, loathe the music of Celine Dion with all my heart. At the same time, though, it’d be ludicrous for me to somehow pass judgment on all the bazillions of people out there who think Ms. Dion’s the greatest artist in the world. If they like her, that’s their deal, not mine; why bother denigrating somebody for not measuring up to some meaningless standard I created just because I don’t like something? It’s stupid, it’s narrow-minded, and worst of all, it’s a waste of time and energy.

Apologies for the ramble, but all this stuff spins through my head, unbidden, whenever I find myself listening to an album like The Transit War’s Miss Your Face. Because it’s the type of album that probably makes some folks sneer and turn up their noses. It’s got plenty of melodies, nicely roaring guitars, little electronic bits, and pretty-boy sweet vocals (that make me think of The Outfield at points), all the emo-rock trappings that have become so fashionable to hate.

To me, though, it’s like candy — I can’t help but eat this stuff up. It’s the same reason I like similar-sounding bands like Mae, Armor for Sleep, or, most critically for Miss Your Face, Jimmy Eat World (see the stuttered vocals on “Chutes and Lasers,” in particular). They’re all basically pop bands at heart, really, just filtered through bigger amps and gritty distortion, and I love it. The Transit War aren’t really carving out any new territory here, but they do what they do so well that I could care less.

On tracks like “Radar,” “Safety In The Air,” “Hey! Is For Horses,” “Desiree, Safe!” (love the soaring vocals, but what’s with the exclamation points, guys?), and “Loud” (probably the best song on here), they weirdly manage to meld mid-’80s pop like Big Country, the aforementioned Outfield, Tears for Fears, and The Alarm with arena-sized guitars, sly emoboy lyricism, and the ferocious energy that makes punk so appealing. The result is beautiful, intense, and warm. It gives me that weird-but-good tight feeling in my chest and sends a smile creeping across my face — and hey, isn’t that what music’s supposed to be about?