Having seen Baltimore's Oxes live about five times, I've grown familiar with their heavy
guitar rock. Now that Monitor records has seen fit to release a full-length, the boys are
going be catapulted into super-stardom. Unlike most "sell-out" albums, Oxes quietly
subvert their true indie roots on this self-titled CD. Instead of an immediate run to radio-friendly production and dumbed-down commercialized crap, Oxes give us only subtle
hints to their new rock and roll lifestyle.
To me, the drums are a dead giveaway. Whenever Prison hits the snare rim, the distinct
echo of GOLD-PLATED SNARE DRUM rings underneath the rock. I'm not the most
observant guy in the world, but I don't remember a gold snare drum the last time they
were in town.
To further their rise to exploitative capitalism, their guitar parts now have a new
metaphorical structure. "Dear Spirit, I'm in France" opens the disc with the angry
discourse between two voices--the guitar of the repressed and the guitar of the ruling
class. Guess who wins? By the middle of the song the underdog guitar is riffing along
with the Man. The message to me is clear: you can claim to be an "independent" artist as
much as you want, but ultimately you will give in and become a "rock star."
Of course, this album does "rock"--only somewhat more obtusely than their earlier stuff.
The two guitars and drums format is powerful here, with Prison anchoring the mix via his
bizarre drum parts. It's good to see that Oxes have not only left the sound of the
(Fucking) Champs but have actually surpassed them in creativity.
Live favorite "Panda Strong" appears here in a somewhat new version. The Van Halen
riff that's made the song so famous is unaltered, but the song feels... cockier, more
assured, and of course more confident. And then I realized--no longer part of the
"underground," future MTV stars Oxes can now afford to eat Panda.
"Riki Creem Calls This One 'Chivas Regal'" is practically a ballad--a ballad of a woesome
indie band who sells their souls to become rockstars. 2:30 into the song is the point
where the contract is signed--their stomachs go queasy for a minute, but they quickly
regroup themselves and begin to rock harder than ever.
I remember the days when Oxes were an anarchist art collective, in the style of the Ex or
Crass. Living on a commune in the suburbs of Baltimore, growing their own food and
striving to create the rock and roll voice of class liberation. The pyramid scheme
depicted on the artwork is a telling sign of how money controls their lives.
It will be interested to see the next album in Oxes progress from "Chicago-style" rock-influenced to "Chicago featuring Peter Cetera"-influenced. Perhaps the female backup
singers (the Oxettes) and string arrangements will be present when they record again.
Either way, this is a telling document of a turning point in a band's career.
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