Post
Monday, July 18, 2005; C05
The Bravery
Slobbered on by music magazine NME, called out by the Killers, clamored over by hip record labels, heavy users of eye makeup the Bravery have plunged into the rock-star lifestyle the way Kirstie Alley used to hit an all-you-can-eat Sunday brunch. The Brooklyn-based band sold out the 9:30 club, too, but the most striking thing about the quintet during their hour-long set Friday night was what they lacked: original, interesting music.
Singer Sam Endicott and keyboardist John Conway concocted the Bravery's debut album -- an amalgam of NYC modern-rock styles (the Strokes, Interpol) and the Cure -- on an iMac, and those 11 songs served as the backbone of their performance. Which was the problem. Songs like "Tyrant" and "No Brakes" seemed merely backdrops for Endicott to work out tired lead-singer poses. Any forward propulsion that they managed to establish -- the slashing opening of "Give In," for example -- quickly sputtered when it reached a chorus or bridge that fell back on wilted sighs.
The sinking feeling of musical retread corrupted even the Bravery's best songs: "The Ring Song" burbled with a keyboard hook that was pure '80s one-hit wonder (Men Without Hats, anyone?), and even the percolating "An Honest Mistake" was corrupted, the ghost of Duran Duran infesting its joints. Musical deja vu hardly mattered to the kids that crammed the main floor. And as every music-buying generation since Ed Sullivan introduced the Fabs has proved, popularity beats originality every time. At least until next week.
-- Patrick Foster
