Reviews

The Matchs’ Decomposer is, if nothing else, an intriguing album. That alone makes it worth the listen. The most interesting thing to know about this album – The Matches’ debut full length for Epitaph – is that nine producers are credited! Tim Armstrong, Mark Hoppus, Nick Hexum, John Feldmann, and Brett Gurewitz are all credited with production on this record. I thought that fact might lead to a very scattered effort that lacked cohesiveness, but that is not the case.
 
My greatest compliment to this band is that they have managed to make both a manic and consistent record. The guitar playing of frontman Shawn Harris and John Devoto is often angular during the verses before crashing into the choruses with catchy and epic grandeur. Matt Whalen’s drumming is so perfectly in time it almost sounds like a drum machine. Justin San Souci’s bass playing helps anchor the guitars in some sort of progression, which is vital in the verses. The maniacal aspect of this record can be accredited to Harris’ vocal delivery, which is sure to turn off a few; he reminds me of some sort of weird mix between Daryl Palumbo, David Bowie, and Paul Banks of Interpol. The other factor that makes this album such a treat to listen to is the production of the whole thing. The production here is similar to Panic! At the Disco’s in that there are a lot of cool things going on in the mix. This is definitely a headphone record.
 
Of course, if a good front man and some cool production was all this band had going for it, then there really wouldn’t be much to talk about, but the boys also manage to write some of the catchiest melodies I’ve heard in a while. While their style owes much to pop-punk and 80s synth-pop, the sense of melody and harmony can easily be reminiscent of The Beach Boys and Brian Wilson’s bizarre notions of how to deliver a catchy tune. It’s almost impossible to not sing along to most of the choruses on this record. “Clumsy Heart,” for instance, moves from an jagged verse to a lush and softly delivered chorus that just burrows it’s way into your brain. The same goes for first single “Papercut Skin,” which contains a straight power-pop chorus. “Little Maggots” has a great chorus lyric in, “May your organs fail before your dreams fail you,” which is also delivered over the top of driving guitars and drums tailor made for arena-rock greatness.
 
Of course, with nine producers, things are bound to get a bit mired…and they do. “Lazier Than Furniture,” verges on annoying in its forced aggression, while “You (Don’t) Know Me,” has a downright strange vocal delivery and structure that seems to be borrowing from…the B-52s? My only other harp is on the lyrics. Harris tries very hard to be witty and sassy when it comes to writing about sex…and he writes about it a lot. Very few people can pull this off. The first one that comes to mind is Jesse Lacey of Brand New. And while sometimes, Harris is pretty good at it, some of his lyrics are cringe-worthy; “STD payphone hangin’ off my face,” from “What Katie Said” and “Shoot me, shoot me, shoot me in the smile / I’m goin’ out of style,” from “Shoot Me in the Smile” are two of my least favorite lyrics. Either way, these complaints are fairly minor in regards to the scope of this record and the amount of foot-tapping fun it brings. It’s a good choice for a “hey-you-gotta-check-this-out” record to show your friends. Some of them will undoubtedly love it and claim The Matches as their new favorite band while some may have a hard time getting over Harris’ odd delivery and the band’s penchant for strange arrangements.
 
I’m sure this band will go places since they have the hardest part down pat; writing catchy choruses. I just hope that Harris can mature a bit lyrically and that the band can figure out how to work with one producer while still maintaining their genre hopping style. If all these things ever come together, watch out.