weightlifting album review

filter magazine

by ken scrudato
fall, 2004

Trashcan Sinatras, "Weightlifting" (spinART)

Rating: 85%

If God were a cultural critic, he might say that it is more difficult for a band to transcend its "moment" than it is for a rich man to pass through the eye of a needle on his way to heaven. Yet somehow, the Trashcan Sinatras have managed to carry out a continued relevance that has something biblical about it. Emerging during the 1990 frenzy to sign bands of a certain haircut, perhaps the fact that they actually sounded much like a 1983 Aztec Camera kept them from going down the same Madchester blaze of glory that had the members of Inspiral Carpets working as gardeners' assistants by 1995. But, really, the Trashcan Sinatras are still here because they're just so bloody sublime. Now, Weightlifting isn't unusually exceptional; it simplky keeps the chain of magnificence unbroken. Stilll, the opening track, "Welcome Back," soars with such feverish intent, that it sounds like a virtual statement of purpose, a sparkling musical manifesto, if you will. But it's the resplendent balladry of visceral gems like "Got Carried Away" and "Usually" that reveal the true measure of their songwriting divinity. They're spiritually descended from Paul McCartney, Elvis Costello and roddy Frame, and like those three, their songs are rife with inexplicable magic. Lots of pop bands like strumming their guitars, but the Trashcans' guitars practically sing; and the lofty string arrangements could easily come off as cloying, but instead, songs like the glorious "It's a Miracle," sound as wide, mysterious and majestic as the sky and seas themselves. Frank Reader sounds ever the wounded, world-weary crooner, but he doesn't so much ask for sympathy as empathy. For the faithful, another glittering prize.

Originally appeared in Filter Magazine .