THE BELTONES "On Deaf Ears" Album Review

For those who have followed The Beltones and had the pleasure of hearing their most recent album “Cheap Trinkets”, “On Deaf Ears” feels like somewhat of a bridging of the gap- a stepping stone in progress between early demos and the fully fledged band we see at the end of their recording career. This is not to say that 1999’s “On Deaf Ears” is an inferior work- far from it. In fact, the question of which of The Beltones’ two full length albums is the finer is a near impossible one to answer.

“On Deaf Ears”, whilst having fewer songs, less frequent soul- shattering lyrics, and less fine tuning, is nonetheless near perfect. Any deficiency- or what some may see as a deficiency- brings with its own special and unique charm. The simplistic and raw production, less layered than its counterpart, provides a crass, blunt, punch- in- the- mouth sound. From the opening gambit (“My Old Man”) this band kicks you in the balls, spits rage in your face and nails a bottle of whiskey whilst you’re still bumbling around on the floor in utter shock. The lyrical focus of this record seems a little more care free in places and certainly isn’t as self- loathing as “Cheap Trinkets”. Tracks such as “Lock and Load”, “Casualty” and “Shoot the Shit”, show a gentler, more innocent aspect of The Beltones. These tracks are nonetheless interspersed with songs exploring the themes of alcoholism, depression, hatred, isolation and loss.

“Let The Bombs Fall”- the album’s last track- is quite possibly the most beautiful, harrowing and devastating song I have ever heard. The lyrics appear to be a direct and personal account of the loss of lead singer William McFadden’s mother and read less like a song more like an account of an erratic and disturbed convulsion of events surrounding said tragedy.  No song to my knowledge has ever portrayed loss- and the subsequent tendency towards nihilism, a hatred for the entire world and an apathy when considering the feelings of others as honestly and concisely as this lyricist.

“Fuck You Anyway” is another fine moment- an anthemic manifesto that upon hearing, every misfit, reject and loser wishes they had penned it first. Never has a song explicated such visceral defiance in the face of the “beautiful people” tormenting the protagonist and his listening counterparts in such a calm and calculated fashion.

Mr. McFadden should surely be credited as the most underrated poet on the planet. I have yet to discover a lyricist with as much finesse both in writing and in execution. These aren’t songs- these are diary entries of an at times screaming, writhing and struggling genius’ life set to music. Never has there been a band like this.