By: Django Gold
In the mid-70s, punk rock dawned in the West, featuring a brand-new sound, stripped of the tonal extravagances of blues-based rock, and compounded with a sonic energy that exhilarated listeners. In the early 21st century, indie rock attained a new commercial viability, with legions of bands trying to prove to one another that they cared the least about what they were doing. Combining these two styles, we have Daniel Striped Tiger, a band with the volume of punk and the disassociated attitude of the most insufferable of shoegazers.
With a sound vaguely reminiscent of a new guitarist plugging into a distortion pedal for the first time, DST is a sonic assault of epic banality. The band’s guitar-bass-drums combo emits all the noise you would expect, effortlessly drowning out strained, illegible vocals whose source doesn’t seem overly concerned about being heard in the first place. Take “Untying Knots,” which drifts between a thundering punk assault and an aimless melodicism without convincing the listener of either. Or “Was It?” which does the same thing, without the distraction of the aimless melodicism. DST gets the governor’s reprieve from the lowest possible rating thanks to the cool bass-guitar-saxophone riff that propels “Pedestrian” until its illogical climax, but you may want to keep this tiger in its cage and dust off some of your other 7” records if you need a punk rock fix.