The Shazam: Tomorrow The World

It's a blessing and a curse for The Shazam's members that a style of music similar to theirs has become increasingly popular in the past year. The Nashville guitar-pop trio broke out of its local club circuit two years ago with Godspeed The Shazam, a lively piece of power-pop inspired by the gutty style of late-'60s genre progenitor The Move rather than the more pensive and pretty version advanced by the likes of Fountains Of Wayne. The album made The Shazam a cult sensation in the U.K., where the rock press, appreciative audiences, and scene demigods Paul Weller and the Gallagher brothers anointed the band as the legitimate heir to their pet sound. But back home, The Shazam's retro side has gotten it lumped in with the neo-garage movement, when it's been noticed at all. Perhaps to cultivate that growing garage-punk audience, bandleader Hans Rotenberry and producer Brad Jones accentuate the raw on their follow-up album, Tomorrow The World. The record opens with "Nine Times"—so named because that's how many times they chant "yeah" at the start of the song—and follows that minimalist anthem with the intentionally over-the-top statement of purpose "50 Foot Rock (Rockin' And Rollin' (With My) Rock 'N' Roll Rock 'N' Roller)." Tomorrow The World emphasizes loud, fat guitar riffs and choruses like those on "Goodbye American Man" and "New Thing Baby," where everyone is encouraged to shout along. The beat-it-until-it's-bloody technique is as rousing as intended, thanks mainly to the powerhouse rhythm section of drummer Scott Ballew and bassist Mick Wilson, but it would all be just another fun, forgettable throwback were it not for The Shazam's continued affection for soar and sparkle. The group's gleaming melodies and Rotenberry's full-throated bellows indicate that there's more of the arena about them than the garage. Godspeed The Shazam employed a classic but discreetly modernized sound, and even amid the rough bash and goof-off of Tomorrow The World, The Shazam can't resist a little polish. The band isn't making music for archivists; it's happily, marvelously striving to connect broadly.