Album Review: Short Stack, This Is Bat Country

10 November 2010

by Nathan Jolly

For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. When Short Stack burst out from the Central Coast onto televisions and ARIA charts everywhere they were the perfect cartoon-faced purveyors of the emo-trend, with perfect hair and jeans tighter than the guestlist at one of their shows. As a trail of screaming teenage girls caused scenes akin to Beatlemania (or the Budgewoi version of it), the rumbles of hatred could be heard for miles.

Short Stack were somewhat unfairly seen as the bottom of the barrel, an easy target for jaded journalists and hipsters everywhere. As the emo-culture turned from a fad to a joke, Short Stack seemed to cop the blunt of it. Still in their teens at the time (therefore endlessly more forgivable for crimes against music then the Pete Wentz’ and Panic At The Disco’s of the world who were old enough to know better), when they claimed Stack Is The New Black and several thousand teenage girls made it so, the reviews were unmerciful. For a band who write inoffensive pop songs, it seemed that they managed to rub most people up the wrong way.

While the aforementioned Wentz and co. quickly fell off the radar as their one-trick pony headed towards the glue factory, Short Stack have naturally grown along with their fans. Whether this shows the forethought to jump off the emo-wagon before it crashes, or whether it is simply the natural passage from teenage-dom to early 20s, the biggest surprise isn’t that they have developed musically, it is that people are surprised at all.

Nicely hooking into the recent vampire/general pale-skinned moping trend of recent times, this doesn’t seem to be a shameless money grab; as interests have shifted in the wider world, so have they in the Short Stack camp. Determined to shed most of the dead skin accrued during the pop blast of their debut album, this time around the mood is decidedly more sombre and mature. Could this be Short Stack’s grab at becoming a Mature Band? The menacing tremolo that opens the album certainly signals the broader influences at play here. "This shit’s a gunfight” sings vocalist Diviney, and the anger and poise on the track is impressive. A new sound, a new mission and the confidence that comes from coming off the back of a number one with an overabundance of new ideas and influences.

First single Planets already hinted at the new visual and audio influences (Twilight, Smashing Pumpkins, Queen) and the rest of the album carries this through. In fact, Planets and second single We Dance To A Different Disco, Honey are the most obvious radio hits, but also the tracks that show the least growth. “Cry me a fucking river” spits Shaun Diviney at one point, and the ‘us vs them’ theme that must exist in the Short Stack world spills over onto record. If there is any group that deserves to be belligerent it is Short Stack, though few could predict it would sound so thrilling.

Are You Afraid Of The Dark is upbeat pop, but with a sleazy edge and even a slight Marilyn Manson sound. Werewolves keeps up the ominous tone, taking string queues from Disarm by Smashing Pumpkins (the coda of We Dance… also plunders from Disarm, although so does Emotion Sickness by Silverchair; a necessary rite of passage, perhaps?)

Elsewhere, Heartbreak Made Me A Killer is more disco sleaze, Sweet December is a blast of punk pop, perfect for MTV and Jack The Ripper stalks like its namesake (and also oddly sounds like an evil Underneath The Radar).

Wendy is a ballad which cobbles together an obvious progression and lyrics that could have fallen flat on paper, and makes something greater than the sum of its parts. Thousands of teenagers waves lighters (or iPhones) and the song earns its place on the album.

Die Young, Stay Pretty should not be read as advice, unless it takes the form of ‘every good Australian album should contain a colonial sounding song in 6/8'. An accomplished pop tune, this track sits second last on the record and leads nicely into Nothing At All, the boys' foray into the world of the epic six-minute closing track. Mostly it succeeds. Champagne Supernova it ain’t, but the same can be levelled at most songs ever written. Lyrically it is sound (as is most of the album; say what you like about the band, but the lyrics on this record easily pass scrutiny). A strong closer, which avoids the easy trap of draping strings all over the place to mask weak songwriting, and sees the band close their sophomore album with the same strength in which they opened.

Now, for the title. No doubt the majority of jaded cynics groaned at the obvious Hunter S Thompson reference (or Johnny Depp quote, if you like), however keep in mind the age of the band, and the age of their audience, and this reference isn’t surprising. The work of Thompson has blown apart the synapses of numerous scholars, authors, and students for years, so for three Central Coast lads to stumble across and be inspired by this work is the least interesting and surprising thing about this release.   

This album manages to give off the same visceral 'everything is life-or-death' rush that has make Twilight so insanely ubiquitous. Some will call this the intentional and cynical tapping into a ready-made culture, however it comes across as the successful capturing and collaging of a host of new, disparate influences.

Most people will hate this album, that much was decided well before this album was recorded (maybe you just dance to a different disco, honey). For others, it will be a rite of passage. Wait till you see those goddamn bats!

For your chance to win a giant Short Stack poster, check out our TMN Recommends page.

Also check out TMN's recent Short Stack interview.