REVIEW: BLADES - WHO'S THE CREAMPUFF NOW?

For most of us, the extent to which any weekly output of aerobic exercise can be attributed is generally the tertiary effects of other activities: running from the bar to the car in the rain; pushing a shopping cart around Specs; taming the ouchpony. Granted, there are some (many, actually) who have found both joy and transport in the bicycle, and if you can believe what you read on calorie-count.com, even riding one’s scooter burns more calories than sitting around writing record reviews. However, there does come an unfortunate time when each of us must take a look at the mirror and recognize that we are not interesting or renaissance-man enough to score a life partner who won’t first have to be wrest from the monogamous emotional clutches of a cat.

And so – off to the Y! Whether you favor the parking tickets downtown or the chill of 34th street, it’s time to start working of the Sparks and the entropy of age. For this, however, you’ll need quite a few sweatbands, shorts and Property of XXX Athletics t-shirts. You’ll also need sweet jams to help fumble you along and keep your mind off what it is that you are actually doing. If you’re just starting off (and trust our leg muscles and sizable man-pouch – we are just starting out), you’re going to have to take it chelada style for a while: lime and salt and slow and easy. Indeed, the first few times you may not want to much more than just get on the treadmill and walk with the quickness of making a connecting flight. Sure, we’d all like to get on one of those stair-master thingeys right off the bat and move our legs with the quickness of a Golden Axe double-kick, but let’s be real about this: you’re gonna need to ease in like the ocean. Also, you’re kidding yourself if you think you’re going to lose any weight working out to Menace of a Heartless Monster.

There are many reasons why Blades’ Who’s the Creampuff Now? EP is the perfect set for getting started in the curve-ditching business. For one, it’s got the word Creampuff in the title, which is obviously what our fat little double chin craves to be working out on instead. Also, like all instrumental rock albums, it has no words, and therefore you’re free to make up your own little motivating lyrics to them, such as “Laughing Cow, Laughing Cow – cha cha cha; ten more minutes I’ve burned you off” (that was the dumbest sentence we have ever written on so many beautiful levels). Further, it clocks in at about 28 minutes, which is a good amount of exercise for people who haven’t gotten around to upgrading their footwear past the slip-on stage. But for us, what really works is the deliberate pacing of Blades’ songs, especially on this release. It’s as comfortable to walk to as it is to pick up the pace with. And there are bursts (but not outbursts, mind you), of speed and increased intensity where you’re fat ass just might want to hit the SPEED UP button a few times and earn some sweat for a change. Mercifully too, there are moments where things slow down a bit.

For a local debut, Creampuff has many hallmarks that set it at contrast with the live experience: production that doesn’t quite capture the sheer sheerness of sweating alongside them; a suite of songs that make sense together, but don’t quite form the complete picture; pacing that’s just a weeee to slow. These things are neither here nor there – and much of it can be chalked up the typical recording pratfalls of a ‘young’ band (as even a cursory listening to their recent Grey Ghost release reveals the increased prowess that comes with time). There are more instrumental bands in this scene than we can ever recall at this moment, servicing nearly every particular sub-taste of record-collection association. If moments of triumph, goof, dissonance and murk all pushed along with maniacal-free sense of urgency are your cup of Gatorade, we recommend picking this gem up (available at Sound Exchange) and adding it to the soundtrack in your personal chariot of fire.

Stream: Blades - Various Tracks