Please excuse my lack of decorum. In the following paragraphs may say sh*t like, “This sh*t rules,” and “F*ckin’ A” and a bunch of other things which may require me to selectively star out vowels. You see, it’s been a while since I’ve put a record on the sound system which hit me as immediately as Rocket Fire, this new one by Ceremony, a record which answers the question what if The Jesus and Mary Chain’s Reid Brothers collaborated with Peter Hook and Bernard Sumner of New Order? The answer of course, “It would be f*ckin’ awesome!”
Yes, the whole distortion thing has been played out over the past couple years and every kid with a guitar pedal thinks he’s a f*cking Reid brother. He’s not.
Hell, I thought the distortion thing was played out when the first A Place to Bury Strangers record came out, and then I gradually came around because, let’s admit it, there’s nothing quite like have your stomach shaken and your ear drums inverted by a face full of guitar noise. It’s a truth embraced by Paul Baker and John Fedowitz of Ceremony, first when they played with Oliver Ackermann of A Place to Bury Strangers, and a truth they embrace, still.
Yet, it’s not just the loud which makes Rockets Fire an album worth losing my PG rating over. It’s the crisp, simple melodies, the sinewy bass lines, and the unabashed idealism expressed in lines like, “Stars fall from your eyes/Whenever you walk by,” words which are so plain when read on paper, but sound so ecstatic when paired with such glorious guitar noise — Shaking, quaking, chainsaw and power drill guitar noise.
Ok, it’s all about the noise and the loud, but it’s a great guitar noise and fine kind of loud, isn’t it? F*ckin’ a’ right, it is.