Hey Mercedes

Everynight Fire Works

(Vagrant Records)

Hey Mercedes were formed from the breakup of indie-rock band Braid; in fact, but for the swapping of one guitarist, the line-up remains exactly the same. Their sound has changed just as little, so anyone who used to swoon or mosh to Braid can look forward to further bruised foreheads under Mercedes’ aegis. The songs on Everynight Fire Works are so solid and businesslike that it is sometimes difficult to distinguish between them (at least for the uninitiated): The album is a barrage of dentist-drill distorted guitars marshalled by driving drums that border on militaristic. Yet Mercedes seldom stumble onto anything resembling a decent guitar hook, and attempt to make up for that fact with raucousness and occasional angular breaks. They are bolstered by a very solid, if not particularly imaginative rhythm section, who maintain the energy without which the album would be one long dirge.

Frontman Robert Nanna has a strong and plaintive, if somewhat unremarkable voice. The lyrics are mostly indistinct—which is not a huge loss to humanity—and wander mostly over onto the wrong side of the personal self-revelatory/Dadaist random incoherency divide. Nothing resembles a narrative, and characters underpin most of the songs. A fairly random sampling, from “Our Weekend Starts on Wednesday” yields: “Out of the darkness / Sings a signal to our sleep / APB for every dream / Dead within the week / Hooray.” It is about as obscure (and profound) as “Hit me baby one more time.” “Eleven to Your Seven” is the closest Mercedes come to a genuine pop song with a decent hook, though the lyrics are not exactly upbeat: “I spent the last three months / In mental traction / Woeing all I could foresee.” In the end, Hey Mercedes are a bit like dining hall macaroni and cheese: filling, not unsatisfying, but you probably wouldn’t pay money for it.

—Andrew R. Iliff