By: John Engelmann

Rating: 7/11

When a MySpace band uses three seemingly incompatible genres to categorize itself, it's usually because A) the band is exaggerating its intended weirdness and actually sounds like none of those three categories, or B) the band has no idea what genre it really belongs in. For Brooklyn-based band The Lisps, who identify as "Indie/Experimental/Showtunes," neither is the case. In fact, it's doubtful that any band on Earth fits more neatly and evenly into these three genres. Dramatis personae Sammy Tunis (vocals, melodica), César Alvarez (vocals, guitar, horns), Jeremy Hoevenaar (bass), and Eric Farber ("Associate Professor of Percussion") cook up a surreal, stageworthy sonic stew that changes from sweet to sour and back over the course of a song.

                                       

"Chaos" begins innocently, with acoustic strums and plenty of "la-la-la's" over a Max-Weinberg-meets-Mexicali beat. When the lyrics enter, it's hard to believe you're not hearing something out of the musical Tick Tick Boom. That is, until the lyrics literally become a tick-tick-boom, dealing with a package that "you'll get it in the mail/and you'll wonder what the hell/and it'll blow up in your face." A slow middle section offers respite in the form of the philosophical observation that snowflakes are "never exactly the same but they're never anything but snowflakes:" this rest period is followed by a beat-less traffic jam made up of atonal bagpipe and random noises. Everything repeats, but with noise mixing with music toward the end.

With alternating male-female lyrics in the style of a lover's spat, "I'm Sorry" is even more reminiscent of Broadway. The song is laden with early 20th century Americana: a soft intro featuring folky metal percussion blossoms into a dixieland feel replete with clarinets. The singers, whose presumably self-taught voices do well enough for an indie/experimental/showtunes band such as this, meticulously account domestic chores ("and when the dog is walked and the salad is tossed/and when the mouths are fed and the pots are all washed") just before divulging an account of another life behind-the-scenes ("that's when the loving is set to begin/the pillows are fluffed and the lights are all dim/I am comforted by you in the night/our pallid bodies fit together just right"). It's a weird experience listening to such intimate lyrics in this pizazz-filled musical setting, but the song is definitely less twisted than "Chaos." In fact, it's kind of cute.

"Brackish Water" is the least theatrical and most "normal" song among The Lisps' MySpace tracks. Naturally, it is also the easiest song to digest. A casual introduction consisting of two mandolin/guitar chords leads to unabundant, twang-infused lyrics about mountains and swimming in dirty water. With a well-balanced blend of melodica, tasteful fast improvisation on stringed instruments, a bare-bones beat drifting just a touch off tempo, and soaring harmonized "oohs," "Brackish Water" hints at a talent for arrangement.

A reggaetón-like beat makes "Pepper Spray" contrast starkly with the band's other songs within the first few moments of listening. The contrast expands as time goes on: with very electric instrumentation (including synths and a drum machine) and bitchy lyrics sung in octaves by male/female voices, this song clearly fits under the "indie rock" umbrella with only subtle showtune/experimental tendencies. The chorus cleverly and concisely expresses the pain of extreme unrequited love ("pepper spraaaaaay my heart away"). But the most creative lyrical technique is the simultaneous singing of almost-but-not-quite-identical lyrics which seem to negotiate a compromise over the course of several lines: "I will [love/cut] you until the morning light...I will love it or learn to [love/live] without."

On "Heaven," the Lisps' gift for assembling sounds that are not necessarily congruous into something palatable is once again demonstrated, this time in the assemblage of a primal rock beat (with a snare drum tiptoe dance on top), country-twinged acoustic guitar, bass vocals, and medieval barbershop harmonies. Depending on one's interpretation, lines such as "the shopkeeper told me that you'd been to heaven" could be sad, trippy, or just plain goofy; such ambivalence in the context of the band makes for a relatively weak track.

It's hard to tell precisely what the lyrics of "Documents" are about. A verbal stock ticker mentions something about dividing "me" into numeral sequences and slips of paper that form the foundation of a crafty book which is then read. Later we hear tales of pouring a molten someone off the top of a parking garage and getting entangled in the bureaucratic process. Experimental? You bet. The chorus ("D...o...c-u-m-e-n-t-s") seems a brief nod to either a high school cheerleading squad or Hot Chip, but nothing else in this ever-changing song bears such a resemblance.

The Lisps sure know how to cook with unlikely assortments of musical and lyrical ingredients. While they might benefit from more artistic vision (they seem to spread themselves thin at times), The Lisps certainly have nailed down the art of creating songs that are at once interesting, entertaining, disturbing, and cozy.