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A Review from the Italian website Debaser.it
link: http://debaser.it/recensionidb/ID_9610/Fake_Swedish_Get_Correct.htm
by “Socrates” 04/22/06
It hasn’t happened often to me lately, submerged in the uninterrupted mediatic musical blob, to be so moved and touched by an album to not be able to stop moving as if I was infected by pulsating energy. I have to say I have never been a fan of the “Garage” genre, but “Get Correct”, the impetuous debut of the Americans (North Carolina) Fake Swedish has literally made me jump and has monopolized my readers in the last few days. I would be even more satified if I could spin a vinyl copy on my Technics, as it would suit the marvelous ancient and rough sound of pieces like “No Exit” or “Beef Trigger”
They are, as you night have guessed, in a place that is almost “Restoration”. I have used such a term on purpose. The young Fake Swedish look to an era, a “golden age”. An age that is historical and not mythical, in which rock and pop were the same thing and no one would ask whether pieces like “Strawberry Fields Forever”, “No Fun”, “Green River” or “Born To Be Wild”, which are so different, belonged to the same family. And even though some of them were selling hundreds of thousands of copies, nobody would’ve dared call them commercial.
Its a return to the pyschedelic 60’s that is inspired by Love and the Yardbirds but is also well aware of the R&B lessons and beat of bands like The Pretty Things. To complete the picture I will say that Vocalist, Chief Author and Guitarist Joe Romeo (Way To Go Paisan!) has candidly confessed in an interview, to be forever in love with The Beatles, and I would add also with The Kinks.
At this point someone could ask rhetorically: Why not listen to the originals? Why not stop with those milestones that represent the reference point for our heroes? These would be very legitimate questions if “Get Correct” was only an impeccable Philological operation, put together by young musical talents, moved by a simple desire to “Go back to the order” (or disorder, if you prefer), but they don’t simply repeat the aestethic musical models of those incredible years, they also posess an authentic, honest desire to create and play (with obviously vintage instruments) the music they really love; the music closest to them. The anger, the uneasiness, the willingness to be there, those are all feelings of the disillusioned generation “Post-Everything” . The generation that arrived late to the party, when even the bones have already been chewed.
What is left to do then? Give in to the rock vultures, who are as numerous as the romance ones? Look for improbable “new roads”, and inevitably end up walking in down old ones?
None of this. Fake Swedish have decided, luckily, to follow their instincts, because they believe that they can still extract some juice from those knotty roots. They are Fake Swedish, but they are not fake rockers, this is for sure!
"From The Independent Weekly: Homebrew by Grayson Currin
"For a second, imagine that Fake Swedish's debut Get Correct is a certifiable psychedelic session lost in an attic since the '70s, recorded in a garage to reel-to-reel by four fellows now sporting beer bellies, gray 'staches and nametags at 9-5s that remind them of the good ol' days of loud amps, hard hallucinogenics and cheap beer. Then picture the band itself - vocalist Joe Romeo and guitarist Eric Haugen with the rhythm section of Ashley Hayes and Dave Perry setting a charge in the background - as those young guys, working service jobs and trying to make it. Now, picture in mind, actually listen to Fake Swedish. Not much difference, eh? Get Correct is its own Nuggets box, showcasing an eclectic, wide-open approach to inborn guitar fuzz and swelling, surrounding and subsuming howls, bathed in the effrontery of Romeo's dead-on songwriting. "Pilgrims" takes a sick, twisted Meat Puppets country-death groove down swirling 13th Floor Elevators, spiraling into a demon-ridden guitar convulsion and falling gently to a south-of-the-border-tinged take on Jacques Brel's "Jacky." The title track moans like a busted pride Jack White, floating through sublime guitar howls and expert pitter-and-pause percussion, but the chug-along, thrash about "Beef Trigger" connects the parts hook, line and sinker here. Romeo's boppy chants come backed with drinkin'-buddy choruses, call-and-response banter and one exorcising howl, setting the stage for a mammoth solo - doubled in sparring style by Haugen - by Romeo. Get Correct.
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