Polar Bear Club
Sometimes Things Just Disappear
Red Leader Records; 2008
After awhile, all of these post-punk bands are going to send their vocalists to have the throat polyps and vocal chord lesions operated upon so that they’ll be able to talk to their kids when they’re 40. However, as painful and damaging all of that gravel-soaked screaming can be, from metal and hardcore to old-school emo, the jugular growl has proven to be as catchy as hell (and the kids really love it too!). So, when Polar Bear Club employs this vocal tactic on their debut full-length, Sometimes Things Just Disappear, the songs just jump out of the speakers with an increased vitality. Singer Jimmy Stadt seemingly channels the best of Jawbreaker-era Blake Schwartzenbach and the band chimes in with their breakneck brand of emo-meets-post-rock to commendable results.
The problem with employing such throat-killing theatrics is that, when a singer gives his/her voice a break and simply sings, the songs become noticeably paler and softer. The result is that this album comes across a bit conflicted, as each song is enjoyable about two-thirds of the time: when Jimmy sings, Polar Bear Club turns into a pretty good emo band; when Jimmy snarls at full volume, they become a standout act. Thematically, the group is pretty typical (songs about girls and growing up), but their passion is palpable and ever so appealing, especially on tracks like “Hollow Place,” “As ‘Twere The Mirror,” and “Our Ballads.” There’s a great deal to like here — big rock hooks, jagged-yet-contiguous rhythms, and an abundance of energy — but they need to find a way to get rid of the snarl-then-sing technique. If you’re going to scream, do so with abandon.