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REVIEWS:
Bad Timing

Arena Rock Recording Company, 2003

Creem Online
9/20/2003
http://www.creemmedia.com/BeatGoesOn/GrandMal/BadTiming.html

In a year painfully devoid of pure rocking excitement (Yeah Yeah Yeahs? Oh, NO, NO, NO!), what a pleasure it is to introduce you to the magnificence that is NYC’s Grand Mal. Formed in the mid-’90s by ex-St. Johnny guitarist Bill Whitten, Grand Mal dispensed with the noisier aspects of Whitten’s former band, and found themselves on London Records, releasing the divine Maledictions in 1999. The following year’s Universal buy-out massacre saw them unceremoniously dropped, along with a couple hundred other money-losers, and the band has been residing in indie-land ever since.
Soundwise, Grand Mal specialize in the sound of ’73 and I’m not talkin’ about Elton John or Uriah Heep here. Wisely diving headfirst into the glam-rock pool of T. Rex, Mott, and The Faces has turned out to be a great formula for them, because although they evoke those days literally and musically, they don’t sound like copyists. And whaddya know? Bad Timing is one of the best albums of the year and will more than likely turn out to be the trash-rock album of 2003.

The production by Mercury Rev mystery man Dave Fridmann lends just the right amount of layered nuance to the proceedings. And mega-rock fan Whitten really gives him meaty stuff to work with. Tracks like "Old Fashioned," "1st Round K.O.," "Lay Right Down" and "Disaster Film" showcase his considerable strengths as writer, singer, and guitarist, mixing immediately catchy tunes with lyrics like "Well, I’m in love with this actress/But she only fucks black chicks," that sound great next to name-checks of Rock Action and Peter Perrett.

Like kindred spirits Cobra Verde, Grand Mal understands what made the glitter era so great: Strong songs, cool image and a fuck-it-all attitude (which also describes early punk rock to a tee, as well). The band bring a freshness to material that could easily be played out as a genre or dismissed as misguided nostalgia, but Whitten is a master who can write hooks ‘till the cows come home. "Get Lost," in particular, boasts a killer chorus ("Oh baby, I’m feeling filthy!), and you believe it. Or how about "Standin’ on a corner/Smokin’ marijuana/Drinkin’ Hiiii-Ceee!" from the wonderful "Duty Free?"

Truth be told, there ain’t a bad cut on this record. Clocking in at an efficient 40:50, Bad Timing never overstays its welcome, and leaves you hoping for more. In a music business that can over-hype the Strokes and the Vines to sales success, it’s a goddamn shame that the same courtesy will never be extended to Grand Mal, who are a great example of pure rock ’n’ roll joy, in an era—and world—that desperately needs to learn how to have a little fun again.

 

—Mike Villano
September 2003