Quasi’s American Gong is a solid album. Cinderblock dorm room bookcase solid. There’s not a single track that would make you reach forward to flip off the radio if you were driving cross-country and sick of everything on your iPod by Arkansas. In fact, most of the tracks would probably inspire a speeding ticket. I enjoyed American Gong as much as I enjoyed every early Guadalcanal Diary release. More, even. In fact, I’d hit this American Gong with a four-by-four. It’s louder and prouder than a music scene that originally got puppy dogged by Michael Stipe on the cusp of the 1990s — which makes sense, I guess, since although I hadn’t heard of Quasi prior to this review the Portland, Oregon trio has been making music happen since 1993. No shit.
So, their own merits here: Quasi has a creepy bass, but probably not creepy bassist in Joanna Bolme. And I mean that in a good way. She’s a sedated Flea if you topped him off with just enough crystal meth to make him angry and sedated. The percussion coming from Janet Weiss is livelier than the bass, but still a large, aggressive sound — hard, controlled, energetic, steady. An unexpectedly springy heavyweight fighter beating the piss out of someone one patient job at a time, and without hunching over like an old man by the third round. Sam Coomes’ lead guitar riffs string it all together nicely, despite the tweeting high voices running throughout. Or maybe that’s another good thing. All three of the band members sing, and all in higher registers. Not glass-breaking keys, but definitely no growling. Now that I think about it, that’s a contrast that makes sounds like David Lowry’s Cracker work. Who doesn’t love “Low?” So Quasi, while not really inventing anything new in that combo, definitely puts another hashmark in the win column.
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If I had to recommend one track, it’d be the one I can’t help but repeat: track eight, “Rockabilly Party.” It’s simple, it’s almost obvious, but someone not cliché: “If you stir up the hornets nest, both of us must get stung.” Not cutting edge writing, but damn if it doesn’t give me some quick chills when I know it’s coming up. It’s just a fun album. I mean the final track (if you don’t count the bonus cuts) is 42 seconds of a dog howling. Perfect. Howl on.