n any revolution, there is some danger of those who would overthrow their oppressors becoming, eventually, the ones that oppress. In The Revolt Against Tired Noises, The Stratford 4 has evidently elected to fight fire with fire.


It's no secret that the current state of what we like to call indie rock is fairly derivative. Not to be dismissive towards the genre, but it seems that a number of bands (Spoon, the Strokes) have no problem laying down a Velvet Underground or Pixies cover on a record and calling it their own. Which is fine. This is not a complaint. I like the Velvet Underground as much as anyone. But when one titles his/her record The Revolt Against Tired Noises, one had better bring his/her A-game. You know?


The Stratford 4 is composed of two boys and two girls out of San Francisco playing relatively unremarkable noise-pop. There is a lot of room to maneuver within this complex noun, obviously: "Rebecca", the album's opener, comes across as an Adult Contemporary take on Daydream Nation-era Sonic Youth (Chris Steng's vocals, in general, can be heard has a de-sexed Thurston Moore), while "All Mistakes are Mine" features jangly guitar work more reminiscent of REM from the same time-period. And the albums synthy-er moments evoke New Order.


And though the band's press material says "Velvet Underground", it's by way of these 1980s post-punk bands, who the Stratford 4 seems to strive to emulate, that the influence is found. Their approach, however, is more song-oriented than classic noise bands. Which tends to be unfortunate, as it results in their loudest points lacking in sheer muscle (which the biggest Sonic Youth-influenced band working today, And You Will Know Us by the Trial of Dead, has in spades), and they just don't have the song-writing chops to make up for the loss.


The only standout track is the closer (which is fortunate, since it comprises nearly a third of the album's running time). Running between the album's softest boy-girl vocals and it's best melody, atmospherics that wouldn't sound out of place on Mercury Rev's later records, and bursts of all out noise, "All That Damage" is an epic, moving piece that not only justifies it's length, but makes promises about what the group could do on future albums.


It is only here that the album's title takes on a possible other meaning: a violent dialectic between the plaintive, human center of the band and the chaotic bursts and swells which threaten to overwhelm it. Which is clever, but too little to far into the album, especially as the effect is elsewhere just to drown out guitar lines and melodies. There are a lot of textures here, and The Revolt Against Tired Noises does get better with multiple listens. But so do a lot of those albums released in the 80s. And they get a lot better.