Pitchfork

Starting a band with an "all-star lineup" is often a foolproof recipe for overblown egos, Rick Wakeman-sized hairdos, and-- last but not least-- shitty music. Take Zwan: Each of its members started out in decent if not great bands, yet they're content playing whatever melody Billy Corgan sees fit to shit out of his guitar, presumably with the ultimate goal of a payoff to fund their better, post-Zwan projects. But what happens if your all-star lineup has the star power of...the twins from Double Trouble, with a devoted cult following but nothing to inspire capes or facepaint. Therein lies the exception: A semi-all-star lineup that's not necessarily doomed from the start.

The Portland, Oregon-based Thermals feature Hutch Harris (of Hutch & Kathy, formerly known as Urban Legends), Kathy Foster of the All-Girl Summer Fun Band (also Kathy from Hutch & Kathy), Jordan Hudson of Operacycle, and Ben Barnett (lead singer, Kind of Like Spitting). They automatically have one up on Zwan in the cuteness category; let's explore the other areas in which The Thermals excel.

First of all, The Thermals break out of the twee/emo/instru-jazz constructs of the bands they steal members from by gumming up their tight, yet spastic three-chord punk rock with heaps of skuzzy production and hip-cocking sass. Every melodic moment of More Parts Per Million sounds as if punctuated by an exclamation point, as Harris sings in a nasal Valley Girl accent: "Stuff your sentences into your boring diary!/ Stuff your senses into the back of your jeans!" The melodies aren't entirely unfamiliar, and the overall sound doesn't diverge much from itself, but the stickiness of the choruses is undeniable. Fuzzy, static guitar and cymbal-crazy drums spew like a bursting piñata in every song, all about fucking shit up, though never in the nu-punk, armchair anarchist sense.

Thankfully, The Thermals aren't victims of the Sub Pop Curse. Every third Sub Pop band in the new millennium has had a really specific, contrived theme-- usually based around a blatant nod to some "era"-- but The Thermals' steez is based more on the loose idea of doing all you can now, 'cause fuck, man, you're gonna be dead soon. "Get fat and waste/ Get smashed in the face," Harris advises in "It's Trivia". Later in the song, he admonishes you to do whatever the hell you feel: "It's only trivia, so don't freak out!" From any other voice, these words might carry a more nihilistic or apathetic meaning, but Harris winds the essence of teenage exuberance through a megaphone in the span of three great seconds.

Musically, The Thermals can't compare to a real supergroup: Supergroups tend to be funny, where The Thermals are simply fun. A more accurate comparison would be to Guided by Voices, because-- oh yeah!-- The Thermals do sound a lot like them. Harris recorded More Parts Per Million in his basement (dubbed "Moss Motel"), and Chris Walla (aka the Dad of the Pacific Northwest) mixed it so that every note sounds wrapped in cracked, crunched tinfoil. Not to diss on the vast legacy of Bob Pollard & Co., but it's such old news, I like The Thermals better: They sound like a fresher, more excited (younger), less boozy version of GBV. For all the easy outs I could take to crash this party, More Parts Per Million taught me not to glorify the past.