So it’s 1996, you and your fraternity brothers are getting your hacky sack on, looking sharp in those wrap-around Oakleys and oversized plaid shorts. Your pager is blowin’ up, a passing car is blaring the latest Counting Crows and all is right with the world. Unfortunately for local pseudo-bluesmen Les Poissons Rouge, their latest release, “Nashvegas,” is sticking dangerously close with that college-friendly rock that defined much of the embarrassing musical contributions of the 1990s.
Citing founding fathers such as Gram Parsons, Neil Young and The Band, Rouges has let too many nu-metal melodies slip into their Southern roots repertoire.
“Nashvegas” gave them an opportunity to explore a broader scope of the Southern sound but instead left them with a sugar coating and an easy target as a typical rock band.
But underneath the shrink-wrapped “Southern rock” lies the Gospel-worthiness of the Wurlitzer organs and the country-swagger of the careful guitar work. These players stick with the groove of the home-style beats but are suffocated and forced to simplify over the lyricist’s drunken musings. Bright slide guitars are thick and rich, but thin out from the overbearing vocals, shoving aside what is essentially a soulful New Orleans blues outfit.
But instead of dense, chunky and smoky vibes, Rouges wash out their rough roots for a Hollywood-friendly appeal, leaving behind a blues-ridden country-rock for a “blues-ish” alt-rock found in the same night clubs.
The flawless production cradles their clear, meticulous writing, but it only goes so far before it becomes routine. Songs don’t stray far from the worn-in, end-of-the-bottle scenario, recalling Southern living, steeped in possible alcoholism. Lead singer Adam Campagna has his moments, shedding light to the post-Katrina isolation of “Oh, Alabama,” arousing an empathy far too common among New Orleanians. Campagna has seen better days with indie-pop side-group Big Blue Marble.
The result is a collection of sweat-filled, slow-stomping Southern rock ballads that could easily find its way on any die-hard’s must-haves, but the line is drawn once they whip out the familiar, their attachment to the sounds of an alt-rock scene that’s been used several times too many.
Rather than giving us a burst of colorful country twang and a taste of their heroes, Rouges shy away when it could be front-and-center, something to look for as they let their bona fide Southern roots soak into their country-rock soil.
Rouges is making some good efforts, but for now, rather than playing back-to-back with the Allman Brothers and a whiskey sour, it’ll sound best between your daily Dave Matthews and a case of Natty Light.
Alex Woodward can be reached at [email protected].
