When I set out to write this review, I didn't necessarily plan on naming a new style of music (and simultaneously redefining music critique). After all, I’m really not that good of a reviewer it's the lazy days of summer, and I don’t have air conditioning. I was expecting to cruise right through this review of The Chap’s Mega Breakfast without too much exertion. You know, throw the promo CD in the ol' laptop, jot down the goods and the bads, maybe conjure a few apt metaphors, toss some background info in there for reputability, and then call it a day. But not long after I poured myself a tall glass of iced tea and sat down in my trusty Reviewin’ Chair did I bounce right up, finding myself running around my living room dry-humping my furniture and dancing like a regular goofball. This is when I realized that I was finally going to freaking do it: I was going to a coin a new genre of music in this review!
Through my first few listens, The Chap's music sounded oddly familiar, but although I could think of a few like-minded bands, I couldn’t think of the appropriate style to name it at the time. I mean, every time I thought the album was heading toward a classy electro-pop direction, The Chap would throw in some guitar grindage, only to swap that on the next song for some mellow disco-type grooves. So, I kept dancing and kept thinking and kept restarting the album. And then, sometime in between the 20th or 30th repetitive “heartthrob” lyric on the album’s first track, “They Have A Name,” it hit me: Mega Breakfast is representative of a new genre, and it's called “Sweat Pop.”
In my mind, Sweat Pop actually took root several years ago as a friendlier offshoot of the dance-punk, indie-pop, and electro-clash movements. These other genres are largely defined by take-themselves-too-seriously, no-talent bands that realized adding dance beats to their lousy ‘rock’ songs provided the energy to actually draw tangible crowds to their shows (including those hottie art-school girls who wear those ironic ’80s headbands and exercise shorts... so hot). However, Sweat Pop artists just look to have a good time and consequently keep their music enthusiastic and usually pretty silly. Sure, it attracts the “whatever man” scenesters, but even they have a tough time not smiling moronically or shaking booty when going to see Hot Chip, Scissor Sisters, Chromeo, MGMT, Mika, The Rapture, The Klaxons, Dan Deacon, The Go! Team, Panther, Datarock, Junior Senior, or (oh yeah) Hall and Oates. Yeah, you get the idea... that’s Sweat Pop.
Now, while all of you Tiny Mix Tapes readers are in collective jubilation for being part of a new era of musical categorization, allow me to make a few clarifications about The Chap and their impressive album Mega Breakfast. Their website indicates that they are “single-handedly trying to re-invent pop music,” and their label affirms that The Chap “have never been influenced by anyone or anything at any time, ever.” Given such conviction in their uniqueness, it seems audacious to even try to classify them. Decidedly much more relaxed than many of their Sweat Pop contemporaries, The Chap also differ in that they (a) are an actual band that plays organic instruments (unlike the trendy electronic duos that solely tool with MIDI and samples) and (b) have a refined sense of direction that colors their music with more clean lines than splatter paint.
By stuffing each track with uber-catchy melodies and painting them all in a thick coat of quirky charisma, The Chap makes their significant stylistic fluctuations flow seamlessly. With a keen sense of musical understanding, the group seems very aware of how each song should sound, typically not trying to be overly ambitious and letting each track come into its own. Not sure if The Chap are pointing the direction for modern pop music yet, but they're undoubtedly having a damn fun time trying. The album’s likely upbeat hits -- “They Have A Name,” “Fun And Interesting,” and “Carlos Walter Wendy Stanley” -- are all immaculately produced, infectious ear candy that will either get you bobbing your head or chuckling at their nonsensicality. The music may have some direction, but it can occasionally be asinine; even their more chilled songs, like “Ethnic Instrument,” are prone to random guitar squeals and filtered bass-voiced shout outs (“Bad my ill bamboo shoot?”)
I would be shocked if The Chap have not already built themselves up a colorful, devoted following in Europe. Similar to that of bands like Phish or The Flaming Lips, The Chap’s music lends itself to the theatrics, audience interaction, and ‘camp value’ needed to keep their die-hard fans coming back, perhaps at the risk of seeming too culty. So, whether or not The Chap want to now be defined by a Sweat Pop style, they at least had the ability to drag me out of my easy chair, and it’s freaking hot outside man.
More about: The Chap
