Orange County has spawned another tragedy, but this time Aaron, Scott and the guys are standing in for Seth and Summer. That’s right, Cali’s age-old ska bunch, Reel Big Fish, is back and bitter as ever in their new lackluster album.
We’re Not Happy ‘Til You’re Not Happy, which hits shelves April 5, gives fans a slight taste of the humor they’ve grown to expect from the ensemble but falls short in sound and lyric quality. RBF covers their standard inspirations such as alcohol, insecurities and posers; however, their end product is heaped with cynicism among often dragging tempos.
Songs such as “Don’t Start a Band” and “One Hit Wonderful” warn idealists against a career in music and make sure listeners understand money takes precedence over people in the business, while “Your Guts (I Hate ‘Em)” provides an initially catchy anthem worthy of singing to that nagging itch of a human everyone secretly wishes bodily harm upon.
Lead vocalist Aaron Barrett vents his frustration as he belts out the lyrics “I hate the way you talk/ I want to punch you in the face,” but the tune soon becomes repetitive.
This recycling tendency becomes a pattern not easily broken throughout the rest of the album. Clips of past releases are dubbed into the intro to the track “One Hit Wonderful,” while another, “Turn the Radio Off,” shares a title with the album that sprung the band to success.
Fans of the group’s 1996 release, Turn the Radio Off, may also notice an uncanny similarity between its track “Beer” and the second track off the latest album entitled “Drinkin’.” Reel Big Fish initially planned to include a re-recorded version of “Beer” on the new album, but the song was later removed.
The next best thing, “Drinkin’,” bears a slightly altered tune, but the storyline remains the same: “man is upset and alone/ man is broke/ man embraces the idea of binge drinking/ because beer is his only friend.”
The only significant difference this time around is the sound quality of the “new” version and other tracks on the album. At times, RBF projects the unrefined sound of a teenage garage band. The background instruments overpower the vocals in spots, which is not necessarily a bad thing.
Either the tracks were recorded inside an oil drum or lead vocalist Aaron Barrett’s once exuberant voice seems to be feeling the strain of nearly 15 years of performing. The latter seems a more logical explanation. Barrett’s strained pleas to “turn the radio off” sound like an increasingly appealing suggestion with each passing chorus.
Although the Fish have returned to their ska roots after experimenting with a harder punk-rock sound in their last release Cheer Up!, every trace of intensity, it seems, was lost to the “punk side.” Their current tracks struggled to carry a quick tempo and lack the overall energy fans expect from RBF.
The album’s saving grace comes in the form of songs not written by the Fish. Of course, no Reel Big Fish album is complete without their specialty — the art of the cover song.
The band puts a ska spin on Tracy Chapman’s “Talkin’ Bout a Revolution” and Social Distortion’s “Story of My Life.” The Fish climax in their horn-blasting rendition of Morrissey’s “We Hate it When Our Friend’s Become Successful,” in which they take a playful jab at fellow Orange County success story, No Doubt.
Overall, We’re Not Happy ‘Til You’re Not Happy delivers a healthy dose of ska to its audience. However, similar to their reggae-rock fan base that has been on the decline since the late ’90s, Reel Big Fish also exhibits signs of fatigue.
The Fish show success hasn’t changed them over the years, and they can still have a good laugh, but at the same time their new album shows no signs of forward progression. After all, it is a bit unsettling to hear nearly 30-year-old musicians singing about girls being “awesome” and “radical.”
While these types of lyrics found them past success in songs like “Sellout” and “Trendy,” RBF may soon find themselves in the same category as past ska sensations Save Ferris or the Mighty Mighty Bosstones, who have fallen by the wayside over the years.
The album is an average one-time play, but after listening more than once, its title becomes painfully true. The boys of Reel Big Fish should be grinning ear to ear. Mission accomplished: the fans are not happy.
