WILD ROMPIT'S second release begins with a two part, six-minute-plus epic that appears to take place on a sailing boat. After three minutes of tightly structured, stop-start rhythms singer Blair Ollendorf sighs “it’s the wind beneath my sails” before a fading loop pedal actually does a decent impression of the elements. The song then starts up again, reinvigorated by a new melody claiming “we were staring into a storm but we found ourselves” as chiming guitars pelt you like aggressive raindrops. Huge group backing vocals sound like lost sailors drinking themselves towards acceptance of their fate. It breaks down for the refrain “Our fathers never thought we’d be this close to death this far out at sea” and then builds up for a lengthy instrumental coda that aches of resignation but is full of hopeful tears.
It might not be the most subtle metaphor in the world, but the idea of finding joy and belonging in the apparent aimlessness of existence is still powerful and runs through the whole of 'Brotherhood.' With Ollendorf claiming his band’s sophomore effort is about how “you can learn a lot about yourself through your relationships with people around you” there’s a level of ambition and scale here that is positively inspiring. The result is 25 minutes of some of the most confident sounding guitar music I’ve heard in a long time.
The sheer level of confidence sometimes makes for an overwhelming listen however. While many bands share the stadium sized ambition of Wild Rompit, few achieve it as blatantly through the method of sounding like Kings Of Leon covering Mumford & Sons. Because of this 'Brotherhood' often feels like it’s bullying you into feeling emotions rather than letting you find a personal connection to the music. Ollendorf’s vocals have a lot to do with this, cracking with a hoarse sincerity at every available opportunity. Therefore a lyric such as “Let’s rewind our wristwatches to be in time” is transformed from being a charming little image to sounding like the final pleas of a dying man.
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More often than not, it all sounds a little pompous, especially in the particularly dead imagery of “I’ll pick you up in my Chevy baby, we’ll just drive until the sun breaks to rise in the sky”. It’s been said a million times before but Ollendorf appears intent on making it sound like the most important sentiment in the universe. Regrettably, he’s doomed to fail.
There is absolutely no doubting the sincerity of Wild Rompit, unfortunately there is no getting away from the fact that these songs have been written imagining girlfriends sitting on top of their partners’ shoulders in fields full of thousands of people. The appeal is amazingly universal however there may not be enough character in the songs to ever find a true personal connection. 'Brotherhood' lacks that defining moment when you think ‘this music speaks to me’, instead it feels frighteningly anonymous.
That said, I’d much rather listen to guitar music about dying on a sailing boat in the middle of the ocean than staring at the pretty girl in indie-nightclubs.
Listen to Wild Rompit's 'Brotherhood' EP at Bandcamp
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