The Guns of Detroit, Monsterattake’s

The Guns of Detroit. The name alone got me. I hadn’t heard one lick of their music, and yet I already knew that I wanted to review their album, Monsterattake’s. It was a gamble I knew I had to take. The Guns of Detroit, I thought, could’ve been death metal from the dark corners of Sweden or anarchist punk from the underbelly of America (not that there’s anything wrong with them, I respect them; it’s just not my type of flavor), but no, Monsterattacke’s was neither one of those things. They would be, at worst, background music at some college frat party where kegs are involved. It’s music that plays the soundtrack of the life that the party has created — it’s not to be heard loud, just resonant.

From the beginning of the album, it starts. Track “Apocalypse Later” hits the ground running, like a marriage between steadily aggressive rock and Brit New Wave. The lo-fi grunge sound they produce could be described as early ’90s Seattle grunge, mashed with the sounds of any ’80s band being played over the loudspeaker at Numbers on Friday nights. Vocalist and bassist Randall McKay uses his vocals not so much to whine as demand, singing on the chorus, “You got the / thing I need / Give me something,” and putting his foot down with authority.

The song keeps your heart beating and your foot stomping to the beat of drummer Jessica Kempen, who plays the song with enough brilliance to the let the song breathe but doesn’t overpower it with excessive drum fills. She waits for her moment in the spotlight — a bridge with a pause — which she brings back with a smart and simple yet artistic drum fill that comes and goes before you know it.

The good times keep on rolling with the second track, “Caligula’s Sister,” which starts with a high pop attack on the guitar by McKay clan member #2, Daniel McKay. He strums the guitar gently, each note meant to be heard clearly. At first listen, it had led me to believe that this track might be garnered more towards the dance-infused fans of the Guns of Detroit, with the drums playing a solid dance beat that’ll have people’s asses on the dance floor.

Randall McKay matches the music playing behind him, his vocals committed to the music and making the verses sound like the lost memoirs of any number of New Wave bands from the ’80s. He sings it to perfection; his voice delivers a high-pitched sound with just enough sulk in his voice to mesh with the vibe and tone of the guitar. McKay switches gears for the chorus, where he sounds more enthused, more alive to the punch of the music. He belts out a rocking hook: “Away from the light / It’s wrong and it’s right / We are born to take you there.” The Guns of Detroit’s first two tracks might be their best; their format and song structure in these songs plays to the strength of them.

They fall short of that goal, though, on tracks like “Quick Hands,” where the song structure was thrown out the window. The song plays out like an unnecessary accessory, containing a note-screeching guitar solo that stand on its own merits but, when played against the back drop of the rest of the band, sounds overplayed. “Animals Out Killing” comes out swinging, like a track that was left off the Top Gun soundtrack. The song fails to follow any rhythmic pattern and halfway through changes tempo and mood, neither fitting what the song started out to be, but the band noticeably tries to make up for it by taking the song back to the beginning — by the time that happens, though, I was thinking about the next track.

The Guns of Detroit attempt to reach into new territory with “Flew Fly,” where an acoustic guitar jangles as Randall pours his heart out, his voice matching the pensive, heartfelt lyrics. The track does have a fault, where drummer Jessica plays a simple instrument (tambourine) at all the wrong times and in all the wrong places, not harmonizing with the tone of the guitar or the vocals. With every hit on the tambourine, it takes you away from focusing on Randall’s voice and the trouble-free guitar playing. A possible fix would be playing to a metronome or no tambourine at all.

The Guns of Detroit manage to get back to what makes them unique in their sound on “Rabbit Holes,” which starts with an airy, wavy synthesizer sound. The guitar follows in and drops a riff that merges with Jessica drumming; slowly, the song churns along with cinematic anticipation. And as the song started, I got the feeling I was getting ready to hear Robert Smith of the Cure, but those feelings were put to rest. As the song grows and matures, it’s evident this is no Cure song. The Guns of Detroit delve into the realms of rock and roll at its purest form.

Simply put, the Guns of Detroit are a band on a growth spurt. They have leaps and bounds still left to pursue, but what Monsterattacke’s gives, with its fusion of ’80s New Wave and early ’90s hard-driving grunge, is a glimpse of what’s to come. To any naysayers who may talk down on this band, I leave with the words of a man who is not to be crossed: “The Guns of Detroit turn me on. You got a problem with that?” — Charles Bronson