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Toby Keith
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The Booda Velvets
So, what’s in a name? The Booda Velvets may have taken their name from an animal care product, but they hail from New York City, so the ‘Velvets" reference is not going to go unnoticed. Nevertheless, these guys have precious little in common with the Velvet Underground. Nor do they have much in common with the underground scene at all. Instead, they are quite excellent songsmiths who appear much more interested in making good, mainstream music than in maintaining some formulaic allegiance to any underground (can you say "The Strokes?"). To my ears, the band they most resemble is Live (less that band’s pompous, straight-faced self-indulgence), which I think is also surely unintentional. Even then, this resemblance is mostly due to the production, particularly in regard to the processed lead vocals.
Headrush is a musically accomplished piece of work that can insistently demand your attention, without becoming overbearing. Indeed, it is this set of contrasts that brings most of this disk to life. The lyrics can be pointed and purposeful, but never lapse toward pedantic or preachy; The vocals are consistently emotional, perhaps even desperate, but never shrill or pathetic; And the music is well arranged and cautiously produced, without sounding false or overworked. The arrangements deserve special merit, with all songs full of good ideas that help them to resonate well after the song ends. Two songs incorporate cellos -- Altitude and Everything Under the Sun -- and in both instances, they push the songs higher, until they soar.
Cassius Clay, a song that uses the boxer as a metaphor for never quitting, is not as corny as it sounds, and in fact would probably make for a great lead single. American is a track that invokes the pre-9/11-but-post-Amadou-Diallo point of reference toward the police force; perhaps unfortunate in its timing, but not any less relevant than, say Springsteen’s 41 Shots (interesting faux pas: the guitar lick imitates a European siren, not the nauseating squawk that is so ubiquitous in New York City). Although they are unashamedly driven by the alternative-pop-rock market, the Booda Velvets aren’t afraid to tackle odd time signatures, either, with Salome’s Wish kicking hard in 7/4 for four solid minutes before it breaks the tension and resolves into a standard 4/4 beat. Also deserving special mention are Staring At the Sun, Solitaire and Waiting, which are good enough to trash all unnecessary comparisons; taken together, these songs prove that this band is good enough to stand on its own.
I think it’s pretty cool that these guys appear to be completely disinterested in posing, or playing themselves into a corner. New York City is a tough environment for a band that doesn't adapt to its pre-ordained sense of what a NYC band ought to be, and the Boodas music rings true because they don’t compromise. The songs on this collection have an emotional resonance that rings true, and it ought to ring well beyond the borders of the city that has borne them.
Grade: 
 
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