Redefine Magazine

PO Box 95219

Seattle, WA 98145-2219

RIVERBOAT GAMBLERS
To the Confusion of Our Enemies
Volcom Records
B+

Every now and then, a band comes and blows my preconceived notions right out the window. I’ve never really been a big champion of the pop-punk genre by any stretch of the imagination; I was one of the seemingly few people who thought Green Day’s “American Idiot” was an exercise in unquestionable mediocrity. Its widespread praise struck me as a low watermark in popular music, indicating how little the majority of people demand from their supposed “artists.” I’ve also never really understood why people thought the Ramones were so fucking amazing. Don’t get me wrong; they’ve got a few great songs, but brilliant? Please. Blasphemy, I know.

Then I find myself listening to the new Riverboat Gamblers disc repeatedly, wondering why I enjoy it so much. They’re recycling the same simplistic riffs thirteen times on the same disc, and it doesn’t bother me at all. Their lyrics aren’t really anything spectacular or interesting by any stretch of the imagination, and somehow I don’t care. The reason? Pop hooks. These dudes cram more tasty, shout-along hooks into a three minute song than nearly any other band on the planet. So many in fact, that despite hosting all the genre’s signature calling cards, I’m not entirely sure this isn’t just a straight up pop record rather than a punk one.

Either way, the multiple vocalists have an insane penchant for getting things stuck in your head and elevating your mood. This isn’t the kind of disc you want to put on when you’re feeling moody, stoned, or pissed off. It’s the kind of shit you want to rock on a sunny summer day before you go out drinking with your friends. Good times. God, it should represent everything I can’t stand, and yet, Riverboat Gamblers have somehow won me over. That’s about as big a compliment as I can give.