Two hot Danes, a warmly received album, mountainous critical acclaim and hype — sounds like a sure bet, but the Raveonettes still struggle to get noticed. What’s going wrong?
The Raveonettes, which consist of singer/guitarist Sune Rose Wagner, singer/bassist Sharin Foo and two dudes who never get mentioned, have attempted to take America by storm with an endearingly twisted brand of chaotic pop. Hailing from Copenhagen, Denmark, the band combines the sweet melodies of early 1960s pop with the noise of ’80s rockers like Sonic Youth to create a sound that is not entirely distinctive (see hundreds of comparisons to the Jesus and Mary Chain) but brims with personality. Where their noise-rock forefathers were abstract, the Raveonettes are amiable, singing funny lyrics that mock straight-laced pop with seamy undercurrents.
The band has been on the road for over 14 months, but they show no signs of letting up anytime soon. Of the tour, Foo says that after a short break they were “hungry” to go back on tour, expressing excitement over a new tour with the Strokes.
The Raveonettes are often caught saying they’re a great band, even referring to their records as “timeless classics,” but it’s not hard to agree with their lack of humility. On Chain Gang of Love, the band’s debut full-length, songs typically start with handclaps, sing-along lyrics and tight boy/girl harmonies that bring back that long-lost tradition of the “rock duet.” A closer listen shows the band’s desire to distill the neutered innocence of teen pop. On “Little Animal,” Wagner sings “my girl is a little animal, she always wants to fuck” with deadpan earnestness.
“The radio in the U.S. seems to be logged into something that’s very disposable, and that’s a shame because you want people to get something that has substance,” Foo says of the faceless rock and pop acts that currently rule the airwaves. “In the long-run, we’ll be around a long time. Hopefully the radio will come around; the media seems to get it.”
The Raveonettes often are the subject of a warranted comparison to ’80s alt-rock progenitors the Jesus and Mary Chain, deriving from the band’s maxim that “louder is better.” Even the ballads on Chain Gang of Love are scarred by extraneous noise that give added weight to the light drama of the lyrics. Like the J&MC, the Raveonettes are not big fans of fancy chord changes. The debut EP Whip It On was recorded entirely in the key of B flat minor (proudly advertised on the album jacket) and used three chords and less than three minutes per song. Chain Gang advertises a B flat major key and uses a wider range of sounds, employing pulsating beats and drastic amounts of static to take the amount of noise allowed within a pop song to a higher level than usually explored.
Foo understands that the nature of the band’s music is somewhat at odds with their ambitions.
“We definitely would love to have a number one album, but we also recognize that our music is quite alternative and it’s not easy to digest. It sometimes takes people that have an understanding of the history of rock ’n’ roll to get what the music is about and get all the references and depth of it.”
The music is fierce, to be sure, but it’s also pleasurable. The Raveonettes aren’t about punishing you with their noise, they want to make something that inspires people to sing along and make out in equal amounts. So why haven’t they broken the States yet? Who the hell knows? Blame the radio for recycling the same old garbage. But don’t take it out on those pretty Danes — instead, go see the Raveonettes when they play with the Hiss at Canes on April 5. Tickets to this 21-and-up show are $14.
