o they’re at it again... reviving "true rock’n’roll" for the umpteenth time so the young kids who missed out on the Stooges back in ‘73 have something to call their own. Ever since the real thing allegedly died, a revival has happened every few years.


The fervor usually starts with a record that’s extraordinarily honest. A record that doesn’t have a mission statement. A record that doesn’t need to bluntly promise "raw power" or "rock and roll as it was meant to be" to make its spirit clear. In other words, a record without any revolutionary intentions or pretenses. Talking Heads 77, Surfer Rosa, Nevermind... they all did that. They all brought something to the table that had been forgotten, or simply lost, by the industry through the comedown of the last "revolution." That’s how it begins- with a breath of fresh air, as everybody remembers what music should be made of.


It seems we’re in the midst of that now. First it was the Strokes getting big, then the White Stripes, then most recently Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. It all sounds right. Minimalist structure, soulful songwriting, and complete disregard for everything that is unnecessary and dishonest in modern rock music. Some of the bands are better than others, but that’s how a movement always goes.


With that, I introduce to you the Von Bondies.


Lack of Communication is the Detroit band’s debut. Released on Sympathy for the Record Industry, the album was produced by Jack White of the White Stripes. It’s no coincidence, then, that it conveys the same attitude and uses the same production tricks (or lack thereof, which I guess is the gimmick) that have worked so well for the White Stripes. The song writing is just as brilliant, and the instrumentation, as could be expected from a four-piece, is much more complex. At times, the recording sounds ridiculously lo-fi. Although it’s obvious that there’s a lot going on in the songs, it occasionally becomes hard to hear. The spirit is there, though, and in this age of rock and roll revival, that’s all that really matters. "We all hail from rock & roll, from behind the glass case," yells singer Jason Stollsteimer over a couple of purposely fuzzy guitars on the album’s second song, "It Came From Japan."


It all stinks of intent. Hearing a line like that- one that implies that the band is dusting off what has been wrongfully retired to a proverbial Hall of Fame museum- I began to question the authenticity of the Von Bondies. Instead of spontaneous, accidental genius, here was a band planning their attitude in advance, and outlining it at the beginning of the album so no listener is left confused. I began to wonder, what if this is just another attempt at capitalizing on the revival at hand? What if the Von Bondies are a put-on band like the Hives, simply an opportunist venture?


Then I remembered- the Von Bondies are really fucking good. They’re so good, in fact, that their motives don’t make any difference. Whether or not they thought it all out is irrelevant. Either way, Lack of Communication is testament to the fact that the "rock and roll spirit" that the NME has been clamoring about lately is very alive. Once I understood that, I also realized that this record would have been released even if the Strokes hadn’t gotten big. Sympathy for the Record Industry’s been doing it for years, and they haven’t done anything to promote the aforementioned revival. In other words, pop has come to them, not the other way around.


Neither the label nor the band are concerning themselves with it, anyway. It’s clear from their lyrics, as Jason Stollsteimer tells stories of love, myth, and image without sounding like he’s trying to be cute (see the Greenhornes- they’re like from the fifties, see?). Guitarist Marcie Bolen and Bassist Carrie Smith provide background vocals, setting the Von Bondies apart from the testosterone frenzy that’s been driving the rock revival thus far.


I bought the album about five months ago. It hasn’t stayed in my CD player very consistently, but I assure you that this has nothing to do with the album’s quality. It’s not the most accessible thing I’ve heard, for one, especially because of the rough recording. I’ve also been trying to make my record collection less grounded in the 90's, listening more to the Stooges than the Von Bondies, because, well, there’s just no arguing that Iggy Pop did it better. For this reason, Lack of Communication is not a timeless record. It becomes a bit dull on repeated listens, but the power with which it hits you on the first time is well worth the price alone. If nothing else, Lack of Communication is a reminder that powerful, spirited music is not quite extinct in the 21st century. For this alone, it is worthy of the score I’ve given it.


Inevitably, what begins as a naive, beautiful movement always becomes a commodity in the industry. It’s happened every time, because when bands become aware that what they’re doing is fresh, they tend to lose it. I guess I’m not doing 2002 any favors by declaring its most promising movement to be a sham. I’m not the first, though, so it doesn’t make any difference. Besides, that’s the process. For that reason, we need records like Lack of Communication. You know, to remind us of what music should be. Ha!