by Michael LelloWeekender Editor
Get Help is a humorous name for a two-man project making full-band sounds. But on “The End of the New Country,” the debut of the New York band comprised solely of two members (Tony Skalicky and Mike Ingenthron), Get Help needs no assistance whatsoever, weaving elements of ’80s Midwestern power pop a la The Replacements with more current alternative rock into 15 completely fleshed-out tracks.
We’re introduced to Skalicky’s voice on the opener “Travelers Shave Kit,” and it might remind some of The Tragically Hip’s Gordon Downie, Jay Farrar of Uncle Tupelo/Son Volt or even early-R.E.M. Michael Stipe. The song at first is stark, the vocals joined by drone-y acoustic guitar, but then the black-and-white blasts into Technicolor with the entrance of expansive electric guitar and drums. “It Begins Well” is widescreen melancholia, sung by Ingenthron. His voice is a smoother counterpart to Skalicky’s more nervous singing, and the sequencing of the tracks throughout helps highlight that contrast.
Drawing from influences like Built To Spill and The National, “The End of the New Century” is a remarkable debut, thanks in part to songs like “All Else Fails.” There’s an alternating two-note bass line with echoing guitar that comes off as an outsider trying to be let into the narrative. “I’m considering your suggestion to become a better person, if all else fails,” Ingenthron sings. On “Punishing Good Deeds,” Skalicky is detached but yearns for connection: “Sometimes I see a ghost in my room, and I’d feel a little less crazy if I knew you saw it too.” And he uses some nifty wordplay in “Fall in Love to Song,” singing, “The watch on your wrist is an hourglass of terrible ideas.”
The sequencing of the two singers’ tunes, the diverse yet cohesive nature of the material and even two short instrumental tracks make “The End of the New Country” an album — not just a collection of songs — first and foremost. Yes, the pummeling close of “Red Jacket Orchards,” the autumnal breeze of “The Town Fires” and the Interpol-like paranoia of “I Don’t Have the Stomach” are individual standouts, but the piece as a whole is where the most rewarding listening experience is at.
Rating: W W W W
