Grinspoon : Black Rabbits
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Grinspoon : Black Rabbits

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Seven albums in and it’s obvious Aussies rock heroes of the late ‘90s, Grinspoon, have traded dirty riffs for clean, crisp pop and have no intention of looking back. Whether this is a good thing remains to be seen. So far, lead single from Black Rabbits, Passerby, has had a great reception on commercial radio and could possibly be their widest reaching hit yet. But does that mean they’ve sold out, or simply gotten better?

Perhaps if they hadn’t started out as such a powerful force on the Australian rock circuit, competing in popularity stakes against the likes of The Living End and international punk rockers Green Day, it wouldn’t be such a bitter pill to swallow. But we all knew it was coming… for years, Grinners have been slowing from run to jog to walk and now, crawl.

The band says they were going for “lighter, more melodic” material on this album. It’s a surprise they even kept the electric guitar. Tracks like Full Moon and Raise Your Glass try desperately hard to be sung along to but lack substance, while Final Reward and Emergency – two of Black Rabbits’ strongest tracks – touch ever so slightly on the “old” Grinspoon, the original makers of energetic, explosive and downright dirty hooks.

The problem with exploring new sounds is that so many bands simultaneously break ties with their core brilliance – for Grinspoon, it seems they’ve moshed from their devoted angsty teenage fan base to a crowd of screaming teeny boppers. One can’t be sure which is worse. They’ve replaced their raw, punchy rhythms with slick, tight production and it only highlights some horrendous lyrics. At least for a seasoned rock band.

Sure, tracks like Casualties and Carry On have the potential to get some decent airtime by not being so in-your-face poppy, but this is definitely an album for a new generation. A much newer, younger generation.

BY JEN WILSON

Best Track: Final Reward

If You Like This, You’ll Like This: THE LIVING END, DEAD LETTER CIRCUS, BIRDS OF TOKYO

In A Word: Sigh