Woove staff writer Stu Ruiz reviews Ted Leo's recent release, The Brutalist Bricks (2010).

Ted Leo and the Pharmacists earned fame with their indie rock style filtered through punk and folk with an eye for pop hooks.  Their impassioned music makes even the most musically and politically jaded among us let our guard down, paired with lyrics that can be both highly symbolic and incredibly descriptive.  Their newest album, The Brutalist Bricks (2010), sees a continuation of this trend, and while they cautiously tread into new territories, it’s another strong set from a band that has been consistently releasing them. 

Opener, “The Mighty Sparrow” bursts out of the gate with Ted shouting over a vaguely catchy guitar riff before the rest of the band kicks in.  The track is marked by various starts and stops, and a sense of dynamics hard-won from years of writing and a taut rhythm section.  “The Stick” is more punk, running along with waves of occasionally atonal guitars that frequently drop into off-beat drum stick slaps.  It’s a propulsive number that shows Ted in his element, able to shout his lyrics with more aplomb then deftness.   The next song finds him struggling to cajole some kind of melody out of the line, “There was a resolution pending on the United Nations Floor,” but it fails, the first real flop in the album. 

“Where Was My Brain” and “Gimme the Wire” are both saturated in garage rock fuzz with stinging lead guitars.  The latter is a highlight of the album, showcasing everything the band does so well.  The rhythm section is both tough and danceable, the vocals are rough with enough melody to induce spontaneous sing-alongs, and the guitar ably weaves itself through the din before the song degrades into a punk freak-out.

“Mourning in America” is another standout; a maze of throbbing, fuzzed-out bass, sharp left turns, and hardcore-influenced scrawls of noise against a wall of steady drumming that occasionally explodes into a triumphant chorus, hinting at the bands knack for rousing anthems.  The first song on that tip on the album would be “Even Heroes Have to Die”, and it does a great job of building energy before the screams reminds us that, you guessed it, “Even heroes have to die!”  Elsewhere on The Brutalist Bricks we’re told that “we have the best in an imperfect world!”, “a little good will goes a mighty long way,” and “we've all got a job to do - we're gonna do it together,” usually among lines questioning political systems, taking stock of societal wreckage, or illustrating highly specific and symbolic imagery. 

When Ted sings, “They want you driving to the supermarket, buying milk and cheese/and generating taxes on their corn subsidies/you’re either nibbling at the carrot, or you get beat with the fasces” I’m left both Googling fasces and wondering about the next Farmer’s Market.   Lyrically The Brutalist Bricks is a rarity among political albums as it both questions and evokes a sense of positivity.  Taken in at once, the album reads like a letter to a jaded friend who’s given up the good fight, whether that fight’s against the abusing of justice in the name of profits or our own refusal to enjoy the moment. 

The Brutalist Bricks probably won’t win over any new fans, and it surely isn’t going to break this band into any newfound popularity.  An overall strong album, it reminds us that no matter how many Brooklyn synth-pop bands hog the indie spot-light, heart-on-sleeve rock & roll just doesn’t go out of style.