Comprised of Clayton and Jeremiah McIntyre, as well as drummer Dave Goldberg, the Box Elders unloosed a four song single not too long ago that met with only the most positive reviews. Included on that slab was a Red Kross cover sitting – so unassumingly – alongside its three originals. So while that sloppy effort was as rewarding as it was ramshackle, the Box Elders’ Alice and Friends is just as pleasing even if two of the tracks included here were represented on that single.
As a part of the third or fourth re-tread of the garage thing, the Box Elders can’t be said to be the most original of groups even if the numerous stories about the ensembles moniker (anything from a specific kind of bug living inside of that kick drum to various other nonsensical concepts) are all hilarious. The band’s sound falls somewhere between dulcet garage tones and a sort of ska influenced mod-pop.
Now considering the fact that ska is akin to cussin’ out your mother, that description needs explaining. On both “Talk Amongst Yourself” and “Isabella” the guitar seems to be accenting the one and the three. It’s not an unheard of rock trope, but the approach is more frequently found in JA ska circa 1963. And what’s more is the fact that both of those efforts are amongst the most entertaining offerings here.
“Talk Amongst Yourself” comes off a bit more aggressive, although the latter ska related track maintains the same tempo. Lyrically, neither of those songs present anything all that interesting – and no, garage stuff isn’t generally known for flowery writing – but luckily what the Box Elders give listeners musically is more than enough for the ensemble to remain a vital force in this latest wave of garage acts.
As interesting as any other facet of this Nebraska act is the fact that Goldberg, while bashing drums and cymbals is also, somehow, able to get in a few stabs on the keyboard. If not for this basic addition to the Box Elders’ sound, the group would present a lesser music. They’re no hacks, but the brief and sporadic inclusion of those organ blasts adds not just another dash of ‘60s nostalgia, but an aural break from all the guitar.
On “Atlantis,” which comes about half way through the album, a solo crops up amidst the group vocals that buoy the track in a way that isn’t found elsewhere. Of course, the chorus about falling off into the see isn’t too shabby either, but with just about forty seconds left in the track Goldberg shoots out a few bars of bouncy soloing that removes the track for its adequate status to something more digestible and even remarkable – even if its just for a brief moment.