Beginning with their 2012 album Open Your Heart, the Men have shifted away from the abrasive noise rock that marked their earliest releases, eventually settling into an Americana-tinged—and surprisingly radio-ready—brand of indie rock. On their ninth studio album, New York City, the Brooklyn band recalibrates and looks to the sounds that put their beloved city on the map as a scuzzy rock ‘n’ roll mecca in the 1970s.
The opening gutter anthem, “Hard Livin’,” is a proto-punk delight, bursting with the energy that made the Dictators a CBGB’s mainstay. Reflecting on life’s hardships, singer-guitarist Nick Chiericozzi finds catharsis by loudly yelling “Alright!” like the rock stars of yore as fortissimo piano chords nod to the Stooges’s “I Wanna Be Your Dog.” First-wave American punk also bleeds into “Peace of Mind,” a midtempo track punctuated by a marvelously melodic chorus. “You wasted your life, trying to find peace of mind,” sing Chiericozzi and Mark Perro in tandem.
Unlike on 2020’s tastefully eclectic Mercy, the Men blow through the 10 songs here with the abandon of a teenage garage-rock band. Recorded live to tape by Travis Harrison, known for his work with Guided by Voices and Built to Spill, New York City features copious voice cracks, bum notes, and drum flubs, adding a playful feel to the otherwise ferocious proceedings.
At times, the Men do tap into their earlier sound. “Echo,” well, echoes their 2009 noise-punk dirge “Ailment,” with the band augmenting their fast-paced garage punk with the nervy swagger of James Chance and the Contortions. Elsewhere, “Eye” opens with droning guitars and wild shrieks that segue into a sensual hard-rock groove, complemented by a face-melting guitar solo.
Halfway through New York City, the middling “Eternal Recurrence” delivers the first speedbump, its repetitive power-pop rhythm doing little to mask the limply ponderous lyrics: “I want to believe, I want to believe” goes the first chorus. And despite opening with a spry bass riff that would fit easily on a Rich Kids on LSD record, “Through the Night” shifts into a driving rhythm that, a spoken-word conclusion notwithstanding, ultimately feels like more of the same.
Ending on the somber “River Flows,” the album’s spotty second half doesn’t quite close things out with the same fireworks that it opens with. Still, New York City sees the Men attacking their no-frills rock with a raw passion that they haven’t displayed this plainly in some time.
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