The Griswolds Appear To Be On Cruise Control

Chevy Chase would approve. Sydney, Australia can now boast it's home to a party pop band called The Griswolds. After hearing "Beware The Dog" I think it's the perfect song to be piped across every stem and stern of a Carnival Cruise ship. According to Wikipedia the band says its music is tequila-inspired party pop so visions of satisfied travelers clutching frilly drinks with umbrellas sticking out of them makes total sense. In true Aussie fashion the band's way with words and aesthetic is on the quirky side. They know how to make you pay attention in any case. For openers the guitar suckles you into its hedonistic slant on life and refuses to let you go until you're entertaining the notion of how great being somewhat blitzed will be. The Griswolds share the limelight from first note to last and that's very refreshing in this era of hugely outsized personalities that shoot out hype waves like a Texas thunderstorm spawns tornadoes. No big wind surrounding The Griswolds. On the surface they appear to be an all-inclusive outfit. Christopher Whitehall keeps the flow steadily streaming with jauntily paced whimsy. As one might expect from a band Down Under (Men at Work we remember you when) quirky is the name of the game. For example, how can a ghost be old enough to know better than it knows. Don't ghosts have it easier that we flesh and blood types in that age no longer throws up obstacles for them anymore. It's Aussie logic I'm telling ya'. "Beware The Dog" spins an unfortunate yarn about two people who had a very affable friendship connection but, thanks to her being crazy and a prick among other things, those sunny days have disappeared faster that any week you can name in Seattle. The use of "Wooh!" at the end of each choral refrain is definitely the stuff of exotic port of calls and the on again off again Mai-Tai thrown in for good measure. In this space I've played up the merits of recordings where the artists involved don't act petulant, like the only things they care about are cutting a royalty check and moving on to the next tour stop/bar/sexual conquests. Personally I give them big ups for taking a family name synonymous with screwball over the top comedy and affixing it to their ongoing music venture. The National Lampoon's Xmas Vacation movie pops into the Jumbotron space in my head immediately. Very good times. Lachlan West is relentless behind the kit. Fill in goofy conga line here. Yes, it's possible to Aussie a traditionally Latino dance move. Daniel Duque-Perez strums his guitar at the pitch perfect moments. No need to oversell this wingding. The Griswolds merely want to captivate you then make it hard for you to vacate after you've settled into the sea worthy silliness. Tim John's bass is the keel upon which the ship improves its odds of hitting upon safe harbor. For the second time in recent pop chart memory cool kids, or the notion of what makes a cool kid so cool is brought to the forefront. Echosmith admired them because "they get it" "they seem to fit in". The Griswolds by comparison fill the shoes of a curious cast of motleys who used hang out in the same precious air space as cool kids but then the girl got too lazy for the guy and ergo, that little blip in their history came to a halt. The Griswolds merit being thought of as not merely a blip in the history of music's shape shifting landscape. Their playful goofiness mirrors another Aussie tribe called Mental As Anything which, back in the excellent '80s, foisted what I believe to be one of the all time singles titles Man has ever had the good fortune to be witnessing. The title? "If You Leave Me...Can I Come Too?" Those koala loving lunks sure know how to give us ugly Americans a magical dose of chuckles. This dog needs to be petted, fed, taken for a walk around the iPod Shuffle, and allowed to grow zingier with age. Do remember to pack your bathing suit. You'd hate to miss out on that peak season tan you know you've been secretly craving.