Indie rock can be tough, especially for the veterans. In Rick Froberg’s case, it’s gotta be down right stressful at times. Because, for those of you who don’t know, Froberg’s fronted two of the most beguiling underground acts of the last 15 years, and for those really in the know, you may be aware that he’s a San Diego punk scene icon. First making a blip on the radar with Pitchfork, he really started bending minds with his second group, Drive Like Jehu, which took the angularity of Fugazi’s post-hardcore and successfully melded it with paranoid prog-rock. Next was Hot Snakes, which dropped the prog, and went for the jugular clutch, reveling in punked-up psychedelia and defiant eccentricity. For those lucky ones who latched onto Froberg’s wavelength, they’ve been treated to a boatload of righteous weirdness and anti-stardom. Not one for collecting accolades, Froberg’s continuously shrouded himself behind monikers like Rik Furr and Eric Froberg.
Herein lies the problem. For all his of anti-posturing, Froberg’s turned himself into something of a hipster icon. The dynamic between the quality of his output and the level of his profile is the thing of a hipster’s wet dream. They love to love Froberg and whatever he touches because, while it’s all great stuff, it’s even greater because so few actually know about it. So when he disbanded Hot Snakes much to the dismay of its loyal followers, jumped shipped to Brooklyn and formed Obits in 2006, the hipster blogosphere had already collectively blown its wad on this new quartet before they even recorded a single note. Some went so far as to say they may save rock ‘n’ roll for the new millennium. C’mon, really?
So it may go without saying that, no, this disc doesn’t really save rock ‘n’ roll, despite the fact that it is a great rock ‘n’ roll record and not much more. Made up of other indie rock elite like Sohrab Habibion from Edsel on guitar and Scott Gursky (also a member of Shortstack) and Greg Simpson on drums and bass, Obits plays a blend of punked-up surf-rock and 60s pop filled with plenty of jaunty grooves and formidable interlocked guitar riffs while Froberg rants over the top in his signature reedy yowl. What sets this project apart from his past efforts is that there is no genre or mind bending going on; no real desire to forge into the areas you’d least expect. No, for once Froberg seems absolutely content to just stay exactly where he is. In short, he’s having fun, and that may be the disc’s biggest strength. It’s a taut, spiky little thing filled with tightly wound tunes bubbling over with nervous energy.
“Two-Headed Coin” sums it up well. Simpson lays down a funky walking bass groove as guitars noodle in some reverbed snarls over the top and Froberg scowls on about his big nickel and big brass and how “the mint is at fault, because you were never asked, about the two-headed coin,” whatever that may mean. It’s not the tightest tune here, but its loose groove makes it perfect to stretch out on, and, like all the best cuts here, Froberg sounds like he’s having an absolute blast.
It’s already certain that many are blabbing about how this lacks in quality next to Hot Snakes, the more open minded will have trouble not being charmed by its vibe. No, it doesn’t save rock ‘n’ roll for the 21st century, but for those 42 minutes that it plays, it just may save it for you.
Listen: Obits – “Pine On”
See: Obits’ Tour Dates