Marc Bolan, eat your glittery heart out. Smith Western‘s latest efforts, Dye It Blonde, plays razor sharp solos and glitzed out rockers like it was 1971 all over again. This Chicago outfit time warps back to footing bills on Sunset Strip, supporting glam rock kings and queen bitches alike. With jangly crisp chords as clean as Colombian cocaine smashing through singer Cullen Omori’s hushed, sensual vocals, you quickly forget these guys can’t even drink.
Sex (Ed), (Over-the-Counter) Drugs, and Rock n’ Roll.
While songs like “All Die Young” and “Dye the World” are probably just reworked tracks from All the Young Dudes, these lads aren’t half-assin’ anything. Fresh off the press, Dye it Blonde seems to be building up even more buzz than their amps are, mirroring Bowie in his prime (okay, one of his primes) and T. Rex at their grooviest. These spaced out jams may not be talking about life on Mars, but their solid gold glam rock authenticity is stellar. It’s not a case of the all-too-ironic (The Darkness) or the much-too-serious (Wolfmother). Smith Western’s know what they like, know what they wanna sound like, and make the two become one in the most coital of ways.
Not old enough to experience art school, designer drugs, or truly meaningless fornication, the band still remains fairly innocent in their angsty, post-teen lyrics; there’s no Ziggy Stardusts manifesting themselves quite yet. The band’s excessive sound more than makes up for any lyrical immaturity, though. They’ve got it all: the ballads, the leads, the frustrated -- though soft spoken -- singer, the choir-like background vocals, the organs. These dudes have broken all the elements of Electric Warrior down and built it back up as Dye It Blonde.
Whether you’re a fan of the glammiest of glam or still have faith new indie can do old rock, Smith Western’s tunes are destined for star(man)dom.