?rebro, Sweden, is the home of a major shoe industry, Swedish Lutheranism, an established university and, for the past thirteen years, the skater punk-rock band Millencolin. Hailing from one of the oldest Swedish settlements, Millencolin recently released their seventh album, Kingwood, in both Europe and the United States.
Named for a variation on the skateboard trick “melancholy,” the four members of the Scandinavian punk band gather inspiration from other groups like Bad Religion, NOFX and the Descendents. Boasting melodies reminiscent of their 2002 release, Home from Home, and continuing the tradition of the “classic punk snarl” seen on 2000’s Pennybridge Pioneers, Kingwood continues Millencolin’s tendency to deliver high-impact, hardcore rock typical of the skating culture.
Millencolin formed in 1992 when Nikola Sarcevic, Mathias Färm and Erik Ohlsson decided to leave the bands they were with to start a new group that better reflected the culture and music of the skating world, a huge part of each member’s life. Playing small gigs around ?rebro, the trio ultimately decided the addition of another member was necessary. In 1993 Fredrik Larzon was added and Millencolin was complete. In the years since its foundation, the band has spent countless hours in the recording studio as well as thousands of miles participating in European and North American tours. This touring has included stints on the Warped Tour, Punk-o-Rama and a support tour for the Offspring in 2000.
With five albums already under their studded belts, Millencolin continues what was started on their previous musical undertakings with Kingwood. The album’s opener, “Farewell My Hell,” presents an angst-filled song that sets the tone for the rest of the album. Sadly, the failure to deviate at all from this hardcore style plagues the album and prevents it from either receiving or deserving any real acclaim. Each of the 12 tracks that compose Kingwood sounds just like the other tracks. While they are electrically charged songs with driving melodies, fuzz guitar and almost panicked vocals, one gets the sense of hearing the whole album within the first few minutes of the CD’s opening track.
The musical facet of the album shines in comparison to Kingwood‘s lyrical aspect. Perhaps due to the slight language barrier (Millencolin began as a Swedish-language group), Kingwood presents lyrics arranged clumsily and awkwardly. In the song “Ray,” for example, Sarcevic sings, “So shut your mouth now big boy/ I’m just myself not your toy/ It’s in my nature to be changing/ Now is it so hard to see/ You can not make me to be someone who will never be changing.” The lack of spectacularly intelligent lyrics hinders Millencolin’s Kingwood as a whole and proves detrimental to the overall presentation of the album.
The best song on the CD is “Mooseman’s Jukebox.” Showing the album’s best attempt at clear vocals and smartest lyrics, “Mooseman’s Jukebox” provides a glimmer of hope for those tired of the continually driving fuzz guitar on the rest of Kingwood. It does little, though, to break up the overall monotony of the album.
Millencolin, while certainly not showing their strongest side with Kingwood, should not be overlooked for the group’s marketing ability and musicianship. After over ten years of making music together, the men of Millencolin admirably continue to do what they love, and to do it with a considerable amount of global success, as evidenced by their fan base. Serving as another source for the soundtrack of the “skater” world, Millencolin represents its members’ passion for the skating culture, adding their voices to a growing chorus of Southern California-esque punk bands.
The band’s lack of variation on its latest endeavor is unsatisfactory and leaves listeners wanting everything it fails to deliver. Kingwood has potential as a quick listen or small sampling, but fails to present material worthy of approbation. The disc as a whole fails to impress and delivers a bulk of disappointing and loud monotony.
Grade: D
