Pitchfork

The premise behind the Jet Age's heart-pounding rocker What Did You Do During the War, Daddy? sounds outlandish at first, although on record it's subtle: You wouldn't know what the story's really about unless you dug into the key lyrics and made a few leaps. Although this is staged as a concept album, it feels more like a 35-minute rush through the head of a man who's about to blow himself up. And by the way, that's the storyline: Eric Tischler has organized his latest songs around the story of a father and husband who, upset at the government and scared for the future of his family, becomes an American suicide bomber.

Tischler-- the singer, guitarist and writer of the album-- acknowledges his debt to Pete Townsend and the Who, and a story this emotional but outlandish could bring back memories of Quadrophenia or maybe Tommy. But the end result isn't bombastic or over-complicated; there are no instrumentals, soliloquies, or drawn-out explanations. Tischler's trio, which includes fiercely melodic bassist Greg Bennett and the Keith Moon-esque fills of Pete Nuwayser, works across the board better than on their fine debut, Breathless. In fact, if it didn't have stop for the shoegazing catharsis of the Bennett-co-penned "Now We Are Three", it would almost end too quickly.

The album is divided into three parts, where the protagonist-- who is not given a name-- has married a girl and sired two kids, and he's happy. But he's also growing frustrated with his country. Specific references to the Republican administration, Dick Cheney's promise to take us to "the dark side," or the mother of all sudden terrors, 9/11, are unnecessary, and Tischler doesn't use any of them; the real subject is the character's state of mind.

Anyone who's had a couple kids or owns even so much as a nice piece of furniture has probably, at some time, felt the fear that they can't protect any of it-- that while we're supposed to be adults with rights and protections, someday those protections could just vanish. Sleater-Kinney also aced this theme on their song, "Far Away", about how vulnerable you can feel for your kid all the way on the other side of the country from a terrorist attack. I'm not sure if the sentiment-- or the ferocious, taped-in-Tischler's-basement classic rock production-- speaks as deeply to younger rock fans who are in the "nothing left to lose" stage. But Tischler tries, with the falling-in-love-again rocker "O, Calendar". And all of the riffs are stellar.

Personally, the album's heart comes right in the middle, on "Dumb"-- an interior monologue from our hero, waiting out a long commute and mulling over his uselessness. He confesses he's scared to fight, but he's tired of accepting the "fear" and "shame": "this world gave you to me, it can take you away." This is fueled by the politics of the day, but the fear he nails is timeless.