Squeezing Tupac From Peter Criss

Upon review of Frisbie's new New Debut, the material issue is whether derivativeness warrants merit or demerit. C'mon, we're talking power pop here! It's less about originality of melody than originality of execution. And wow, no cheap tricks here, my friends. Frisbie's execution is an exercise in perfection.

Who are Frisbie? They are a group of guys seemingly guided by voices of not only haunts of their hometown of Chicago, but of notable contemporaries as well. I was struck on numerous occasions by the ghost of Ellison clearly making his voice heard, especially on the stand-out track I Speak Your Mind. For a split second, I was resentful of the tragic reminder, but then I accepted the sheer nostalgic joy it evoked. Horns reminiscent of CTA and ELO flourishes balance perfectly with modern GBV melodies and Jellyfishy wit. Big stars they are not, but a Frisbie of a generation ago would undoubtedly be influencing the young poppers of today.

The recognition of Frisbie's greatness on New Debut is instant and exponentially more rewarding with each listen. "You're so fucking beautiful" ... "Yes impossible everyone." I dare you to try to shake them off, but why would you want to? The album clocks in mercifully at about 40 minutes - the quicker to reward yourself all over again. I finally know why the repeat function exists.

Sure, Frisbie sounds familiar, but on New Debut, familiarity hardly breeds contempt, it breeds a classic. Relish in the familiar and enjoy - over and over and over again.



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