The White Wires – WWII

Coming across as some half-bred plague in response to Edward G. Robinson in The Ten Commandments when he asks, “Where’s your messiah now?,” it’s taken two years to confirm the turbulent simplicity of their first record. Like a shoe afire in Joe Meek’s kitchen, they may be hard to equate but loud enough to make your teeth vibrate in a Buzzcock blunderstruck, deliberately flagrant sort of way.

Covering most of the loose ends traditionally squeezed out of a second thought, songs like “Be True to Your School (‘Til You Get Kicked Out)” and “Just Wanna Be With You” engrave initials around bubblegum blasphemies that could save us from the liabilities of current rock distractions. It’s basic. It’s fast, and it makes its point without scurrilous splendor or pessimism.

“Hands” wring with chiming guitar as its lyrics restate sentiments akin to “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” in a more desperate, vexed manner. “Did You Forget My Name” has a familiar and forbidden feisty-welter missing from most tough-guy chants. It’s as if here’s this guy who is quick on the draw and just knows someone else is going to get this girl unless he pushes the issue.

“I see you cruisin’ on your feet and whaddya say?/ I see you getting off early and whaddya say-yeah?!” And at one time, “round, round get around/ I get around” said the same. “Roxanne” isn’t the redlight Police cover but tracks homesick blues for concrete reaction sans any existential verse. “Summer Girl” is the unrehearsed eternal anecdotes surrendered to youth. Twelve in 27 minutes, the White Wires are all about songs that provide the foundation for being young enough to smooth the rough edges.

The White Wires