THE WILD WEEKEND - The Wild Weekend (Nicotine)
There's practically nothing I enjoy more than reading liner notes from bands for whom English is obviously a second language, like Italy's Wild Weekend. Right up front, their mission statement is laid out something like this: "This is wild rock 'n roll. We recorded these songs on alcohol. We were high, as well as every time we play live."

This, their eponymous debut, was evidently recorded during a magnetic storm caused by the sun, an event that happens once every 11 years, with studio time purposely booked in advance by the band with full knowledge of the phenomenon set to occur that day. Making sure all bases are covered, they then go on to warn of out-of-tune guitars and songs with uncorrected "mistakes." Call it a "hunch," but something tells me most Barflies don't give a fat fuck about perfection. With 12 songs crammed into 24 minutes and 45 seconds, this one is over in a flash anyway.

Despite some obvious problems in Remedial English 101, the Wild Weekend are teacher's pets in Remedial Rawk 101, rising to near the top of the class with a, uh, wild mix of flippant Manitobian vocals, testicular fortitude, infectious and fairly crisp bubblegum melodies, repetition, rhythm, and fuzz guitar. In other words, pop punk with a mandatory nod toward the usual suspects (Buzzcocks and Ramones).

At first blush, "The Wild Weekend" is all sort of samey, but "samey" doesn't necessarily equate to "bad." After all, the Ramones rode out a 20-year career built on "samey." In a nod to Da Bruddahs, all three
members of the Wild Weekend have adopted the same first name: Wild JP (guitar/vocals), Wild G (bass/vocals), and Wild V (drums).

Original? Hardly. Entertaining? Fairly. "The Wild Weekend" celebrates adolescent abandon (even though these guys' teen years are but a memory), like coitus ("Born To Fuck"), lying girlfriends and romance gone wrong ("Lies"), and getting stoned and running around ("Out Tonight"). Although it clocks in at just 1:57, "Don't Tease Me" is what the Wild Weekend do best, stealing a page out of the book of Stardumb mainstays like The Apers and Backwood Creatures, both conspicuously quiet lately.

It's hard to say why they felt obligated to apologize for what they felt were flies in the ointment. It's certainly a competently played and produced affair, albeit a tad rote.

Although there's really not much here that makes The Wild Weekend stand out from their pop punk brethren, this disc isn't a bad way to waste 25 minutes, roughly the time it takes to get my three kids to the dinner table for their meat and potatoes. And like that wise old sage The Barman told
me recently, sometimes meat and potatoes ain't a bad meal. - Clark Paull