Long, long ago (80s) in a galaxy far, far away (Minnesota), there lived a band called THE REPLACEMENTS. The music was brash, unadulterated drunk rock. Two brothers, one known for playing live either clad in a trash bag or nothing at all, fueled the band’s delicious veering-off-the-highway charm, along with sneery tunesmith / vocalist Paul Westerberg. At their best, the Mats evolved into a tension experiment between sloppy, broken cue stick stabs at classic rock and down in the dumps acoustic/ piano sprawl. There’s more to the story that you can read in countless alterna-hip periodicals. But if you cut to the end, Westerberg and the Stinsons reside as cultural icons, never receiving the paychecks or household-name standing to which they were entitled. Plus, their style has been copped, chopped, and synthesized to promote everything from allergy medications to touchy-feely TV dramas.

I know, I know, a whole paragraph already. I’m sure the guys in HEAP have gotten the Westerberg comparisons by a host of others before me. This is their second release, and it’s a collection of snappy, good-time t-shirt 'n jeans anthems. It’s polished and more sports bar than side bar, but I liked it. The “naw, screw it” vibe isn’t as prevalent as I’d like it to be, but the songcraft of Tim Heap is admirable. Tracks like “Backsliding” and “One Thing I’m Doing Without” have some hooks that might getcha waxin’ back to those pre-internet days in the smoky student union. Don’t you remember discussing MARSHALL CRENSHAW records with that girl that would laugh and touch your arm, saying things like, “I feel like I can tell you anything...”? But she always had a boyfriend, and it sure wasn’t you.

What’s missing is the priceless bits of Westerberg poetry that just couldn’t be synthesized by the strip mall crowd. Lines like “Cupie dolls and urine stalls” and “You trade your telescope for a keyhole” just made you feel like you were onto something so genuine every time you spun it. The fact that every song was a hooker was just icing on the cake. While Tim Heap’s lyrics may not resonate as clever or haunting, I did like the solos quite a bit, like the quick ‘n slashy vibe of “Women”, courtesy of guest NYC rock legend Mickey Leigh.

The whole thing is tasty and seems low on preservatives, so if you’ve been a little down on the last few Westerberg records, and weren’t that offended by the GIN BLOSSOMS etc., pick this up.

- Marchman

OFFICIAL SITE: www.heap-nyc.com

MP3 SOUND SCRAP: Electricity

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