Punk that pops

Shods say Thanks for Nuthin'

by Sean Glennon

First thing first. The Shods are a pop band. If you want to understand the Boston quintet's music, you have to

keep that in mind. The Shods play songs that center on hooks, a strong sense of melody, and sometimes complex, always well-designed harmonies.

They may sound like a punk band to you. Hell, they may even be a punk band. They certainly have a punkish energy, particularly in their approach to live performance. But so did the British new romantics. And almost no one called Elvis Costello or Joe Jackson a punk.

Very few people ever called the Jam a punk band either, though the Jam emerged at the same time as the English punks and had both punk's energy and British punk's political sensibilities. But that's because people were too busy calling the Jam neo-Mods, something else they really weren't. But they looked the part. And on the surface, they sounded the part. And, for most people, the combination was enough.

It's fairly fitting then, the Shods (who appear this Friday at the Worcester Phoenix Best Music Poll awards party at the Lucky Dog) have been compared to the Jam: the Shods, too, went through an early period in which they were chronically mischaracterized. In their case it was as a rockabilly band.

They sure looked like a rockabilly band, wearing the requisite, cultivated sideburns and retro-garb complete with sharp-lapeled jackets. And their raw, energetic music sometimes swings. Combine those elements in the search for an easy descriptor, and nine times out of 10 you're going to come up with rockabilly.

Doesn't change the fact that it's off the mark.

The Shods didn't much like the mischaracterization, says frontman Kevin Stevenson, so they made a decision to change their look. Now everyone calls them a punk band. And that's not quite correct either. Probably.

"I don't think we are [a punk band]," Stevenson says. "Our music's definitely got a punk-rock attitude to it. But when I listen to a song like `Scorpion Bowl' that starts the new record, you can't listen to that and say, `This is a punk-rock band.' "

He's right. "Scorpion Bowl," like most of the songs on Thanks for Nuthin' (Poorhouse/Lunch), the Shods' third album, is a guitar pop song, pure and simple.

"Eddie Cross," the song that follows "Scorpion Bowl," is even more effective. It accomplishes the thing most representative of pop at its purest: it tattoos a simple lyric and a basic melody on your brain and leaves you humming the chorus for hours, maybe even days.

"I don't wanna be on MTV. I don't wanna be on MTV. I don't wanna go. I don't wanna go. I don't wanna go."

It's almost nothing on paper. You wouldn't call it hollow; it certainly makes a statement. But it isn't exactly difficult to fathom. There's never going to be a moment of enlightenment when you think, "Oh, that's what he's trying to say." Nonetheless, it's inescapable. You have to listen to the song just once to have those lines running through your head and leaping onto your tongue at will.

Now that's good pop.

Of course, you know what band did an amazing job writing brilliantly simple, lyrical hooks? The Ramones. The quintessential punk band.

But then, punk wasn't always as limiting a description as it is now. Once upon a time at CBGB and Max's Kansas City, punk referred more to attitude than to style. You could be the Ramones, Blondie, or the Talking Heads and still be punk. All it required was an interest in making good rock and roll and a willingness to eschew the baroque sensibilities that had overtaken the mainstream.

If the Shods had been playing in those clubs at that time, they would have been a punk band. And Stevenson would have been happy to be called punk.

As it is, even today, he's not entirely put off by it.

"I like punk music," he says. "And if other people like punk music and they hear something in us that reminds them of punk, I think that's okay.

"You can't mind being compared to anything. As long as you're being compared to something, it means people are listening."

Still, Stevenson would prefer listeners approached the Shods' music paying less attention to what or whom it sounds like and more attention to what the band themselves are doing.

"I wish people would listen more to the songwriting," he says. "Less to style and more to substance. Listen to the song and how poppy it is. I would also tell them to listen to the vocals. We have four-part and sometimes five-part harmonies running through the songs. I wish people would hear those more."

Probably they do. In fact, it's impossible to miss the Shods' harmonies and to miss their hooks. It's just that the songs are so well put together that you're more likely to hear the whole than the sum of the parts. And then when you have to describe them, you end up focusing on the energy and calling them punk.

Stevenson is resigned to it. "Everyone has to pigeonhole you somehow," he says. " I guess I'm just glad they're not calling us a rockabilly band anymore."

The Shods appear on May 12 at the Worcester Phoenix Best Music Poll party. The party starts at 8 p.m. at the Lucky Dog. Call (508) 363-1888. The 21+ event is free.