The Automatic Automatic
Not Accepted Anywhere
B-Unique / Columbia
By Kevin Hakansson
It’s easy (and fairly commonplace, at this point) for a British alternative rock band to be described as having influences in both the mainstream rock that came out of their native country, as well as many of the original punk bands that hit the scene in the late ‘70s. And while The Automatic Automatic may not claim Johnny Rotten among their idols, they do claim roots from alternative radio heroes Blur to the volatile post-hardcore of At the Drive-In. Such a varied mix of supposed musical instigators proves not to be farce, as exhibited by Not Accepted Anywhere.
Originally released in 2006 in their native Britain (under the singular name The Automatic), the album came Stateside this past summer. While it hails from across the ocean, the album is significantly Americanized, thanks largely in part to the aforementioned punk/hardcore influence that peeks its head out from time to time. On early tracks like “That’s What She Said” and “You Shout You Shout You Shout You Shout,” Rob Hawkins’ vocals, at once tuneful and anxious, are often backed by a quick, pressing instrumental backing, with each tune feeling like it’s one loose railroad spike away from turning into a runaway train.
Though there’s a bit of angst thrown into just about every song on Not Accepted, there’d be little substance without some fine songwriting to go with it. The chorus of “Monster” is unquestionably infectious, wrapping itself up with the band shouting “What’s that coming over the hill? Is it a monster?” while Hawkins’ bass and James Frost’s guitars wail and squeal to a halt.
“Raoul” illustrates everything that’s appealing about The Automatic. Hawkins snottily plows through verse after verse before belting out a chorus that’s catchy without being obnoxious. All the while, the synth of Alex Pennie (who has since departed the group) drives through almost every section of the song, including a nightclub-worthy dance bridge.
Led by the likes of Franz Ferdinand and Bloc Party, the manner of British punk-infused indie rock has been done to death. But that’s not to say there’s no life in a style which seems to have become its own genre. Though not exactly a bona-fide original, The Automatic Automatic has the energy, guts, and bravado to provide rock and roll with a breath of fresh air.
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