Violent Femmes - Hotel Last Resort

The Guardian 40

(PIAS)
The only way after the dire first track is up; splashing the punk folk ire around rock’n’roll and Americana

In 2007, bass player Brian Ritchie excoriated his bandmate Gordon Gano, the songwriter of Violent Femmes, for licensing their classic Blister in the Sun to the hamburger chain Wendy’s. “It is his karma that he lost his songwriting ability many years ago, probably due to his own lack of self-respect as his willingness to prostitute our songs demonstrates,” Ritchie said. Twelve years on, Ritchie seems to have made his peace with Mammon: to tie in with their 10th album, the Femmes have paired up with not-at-all-rapacious-capitalists Nike to make a range of bespoke trainers. But the opening track of Hotel Last Resort suggests his initial assessment was correct. Another Chorus is horrible, a condemnation of a terrible band that ends up sounding like Barenaked Ladies at their zaniest and most unlistenable: “A verse is a chorus if you sing it more than once / This feels like it’s been going on for days and weeks and months.” Physician, heal thyself.

At least the low point is dispensed with immediately. The only way from there is up, albeit only on a mild incline. The Femmes’ sound is still attractive – acoustic instruments bashed around with vigour and ire, splurged across rock’n’roll and Americana. But even the best songs here – Not OK, Everlasting You (the Velvet Underground, if Lou Reed had predated Thomas Edison) – would have been minor numbers on the first two albums.