Blackblack

We Say...

Review by J. Edward Keyes

"I am seriously depressed about my level of energy," Diva Dompe sighs at the outset the aptly-titled "Energy Song." Really? You are? Because if you're low on energy, the rest of us are stone dead, sad pale excuses for viable human beings. Throughout Blackblack Diva and sister Lola (with some assistance from ex-Phantom Planet vocalist Alex Greenwald on guitar) bound, leap, squeal and shout, barreling through eight gloriously ragtag pop songs, focusing on the frayed edges and the big blemishes instead of the shiny centers. Blackblack make imperfection perfect, proudly brandishing ragged guitars, pounding on busted drums and choosing a giddy holler over a practiced croon.

It's the revival of a lost aesthetic, the same kind of ragged charm favored by old-time indie heartthrobs like BMX Bandits and Talulah Gosh and Marine Girls, the order of the day before someone showed up with the soap and water and singing lessons and turned the whole enterprise into a crash course in good manners. "The Most! The Best! The Greatest!" is impish and hyperactive, Diva and Lola belting out the chorus — "The most! The Best! The Greatest! Foreverrrr! Foreeehhveehhrrrr!" — over and over as guitars collide behind them. They veer beautifully off-pitch again and again — which is precisely what the song demands.

It doesn't hurt that the sisters sound like grade schoolers, their voices brash and naïve. In "I Wish I Were a Scientist" Diva could be a 6 year-old dropout, pouting, "I wish I were a scientist/ but I've never been good in school" as guitars twitch and cymbals crash haphazardly. Elsewhere she's introspective, sighing "do you like sugar in your tears" atop moping bass. And if the music is just as green -- a cluster of bare guitar chords, some out-of-time drums – so much the better. It's the kind of wild abandon some people call "amateurish," some call "winning," some call "punk."

Here's something else you can call it: energy.