Published on Nov 20, 1998
I’m always a little bit apprehensive whenever I prepare to
listen to an album that has been done by one or two people. There’s
always the concern in my mind that, because they tried to do so
much, something will be a weak link – and it will be a mother. I
always feel some tinges of doubt, even before I pop the disc into
my player.
Then, there’s New Jersey-based Bliss. A two-man band (with
Michael Trapp handling all the instruments and Matt Wells all the
vocals), Bliss is one of the few bands who actually manage to get
things right. Everything sounds so natural that you’d be
hard-pressed to believe that all the sounds on their debut
Chasing The Mad Rabbit didn’t come from a full band.
As a musician, Trapp’s abilities astounded me. While it did
occasionally sound like some of the instruments came off a
synthesizer, the overall sound to my ears was that many of these
instruments were indeed natural. (If they were synthesized, then
Trapp did a damn good job.) No matter what the instrument in
question, from lead guitar to solid drum work, Trapp switches over
almost as naturally as if he were changing his shoes. As a
songwriter, Trapp is just as talented; almost every song on this
16-track disc held my attention.
Of course, Wells had a hand in some of the songwriting as well,
and should be duly credited for a job well done. Vocally, Wells’s
style is surprisingly prolific. One minute, Wells sounds like he’d
have been an ideal candidate to replace Steve Perry in Journey; the
next minute, I could swear that I was listening to Ozzy Osbourne
circa 1971; the next, Wells is doing his best Trent Reznor
impersonation.
And while only one or two guises don’t fit his vocals that well
(I wasn’t particularly fond of the industrial-style sound on
“Sick”, though it was a good track aside from that), Wells’s vocal
gymnastics are surprisingly adept to whatever he sets out to try.
However, there are limits to his magnificence; once or twice on
“Insides Out,” I thought I heard him go a little flat, though he
recovered each time.
The songs on
Chasing The Mad Rabbit are enough to restore anyone’s faith
in independent rock. From the power-pop sensibility of “Once Upon A
Time” and “Colorblind” to the psychedelia of “Karmic Wheel,” from
the spit-in-the-face rebellion of “Little Bitches” (tell me they
sent a copy of this to Tipper Gore) to the Kurt Cobain tribute of
“Nevermind,” Bliss simply amazes the listener at their skill. Their
on-line bio says that Bliss wanted to create the ultimate rock CD.
They’ve come really close.
But while I can appreciate that Trapp and Wells do not want to
be trapped behind one particular genre of music, it sometimes feels
like they’re trying to cover too much ground on
Chasing The Mad Rabbit. Instead of trying to grab for the
brass ring on their first effort, they might have tried first
building up their sound (which is pretty much on the money already)
and then tried to expand their musical horizons. I’m just concerned
that trying to be too many bands too often would confuse someone
who wanted to program them onto their radio station or who wanted
to market this disc to a specific fan base.
Still, these points are minor, and they do not take away from
the overall power of the songwriting and musicianship of
Chasing The Mad Rabbit. Trapp and Wells can look back on
this disc and realize that they’ve created something fine – here’s
hoping that this isn’t the last we’ve heard of Bliss.