he “Garage Rock Revival” (trademarked by music critics everywhere) is the training ground for the bar bands of the next generation. Fear not, kiddies, you won’t be forced to drink your beer to the strains of 3rd-generation retreads of BTO and Hootie covers, all thanks to the efforts of such enterprising bands as the Von Bondies. You can take comfort in the fact that they have chosen only the finest sources of inspiration: 60s garage rock and, well, precious little else. They’ve taken their MC5 records and the Nuggets box (only the first one, mind. There’s none of that poncy British psychedelia to be found here.) and studied them to the last raspy scream. The Von Bondies are authentic, gritty, and provide a great soundtrack for a rowdy, sweaty night out at the bar.


It never hurts to have a friend in high places. Have him mention your name, convince him to man the mixing board for your album, and your career is bound for glory, rather than languishing in obscurity. The David Bowie to the Von Bondies’ Iggy is played by Detroit’s second-favorite son, Jack White, as stylistic differences prevented Eminem from assuming the role. His influence seems to have been largely used teaching frontman Jason Stollsteiner to sing in a soulful manner, complete with slips into a wavering vibrato. The mix does escape the fate of several thin-sounding records of late, presenting a raw, rough portrait remarkably similar to the band’s live sound.


As far as the songs go, once you’ve heard one, you’re well-prepared to discuss the rest. These are all pounding examples of Motor City rock: thudding soul grooves played at full throttle, with squealing guitars fighting to be heard over each other. The songwriting quality is consistently solid, not that anyone will be searching the lyric sheets for bon mots. ‘Nite Train’, ‘It Came From Japan’, and the title track are the strongest rockers, with ‘No Sugar Mama’ managing to stand out from the crowd in a more sedate manner.


The Von Bondies end up as a convincing simulacrum of their sources, but therein lies the problem: there’s no reason to reach for their album, as opposed to any other garage album. Like the Greenhornes, they hew so closely to the garage family tree that you’d be just as well served picking up an original. Still, it’s always a blast to hear this music played live, and the Von Bondies should be regulars on the indie bar scene for a good time to come. Buy the redhead guitarist a beer, but sometimes, a Lack of Communication is better left alone.