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I don’t pretend to know much (or anything) about the Toronto music scene. But I feel safe in my assertion that The Scenics<\/strong> aren’t typical of whatever it sounds like. With a country-punk vibe that owes as much to Johnny Cash<\/strong> as to The Replacements<\/strong>, The Scenics are in fact a highly-regarded punk band that have been active since the 1970s. Wedding a ramshackle jangle and melodic songs to a punk aesthetic, the group ends up with a singular sound not especially redolent of few others act I could name. But fans of Mekons<\/strong> will delight in finding a few similarities and a compatible sensibility.<\/p>\n When \u2013 as on the oddly-titled (and decidedly NSFW) \u201cA Fox, Her Fur, and Where She Parks It\u201d \u2013 the band ostensibly aims for a tender, romantic vibe, the result is equal parts that and something vaguely sinister and disturbing. But then \u201cWhen You Come Around\u201d feels like a Paisley Underground update of The Byrds<\/strong>, albeit with more, er, uncommercial-sounding lead vocals. Speaking of commercialism, the group’s sturdiest tunes evoke memories of when The<\/strong> Velvet Underground<\/strong> attempted (quite successfully, as it would happen; see Loaded<\/em>) to craft pop music. But just when things start to sound a bit like the aforementioned pop music, the band takes a turn toward dissonance, with jagged guitar lines and a woozy, slightly off-kilter beat, with buzzing guitars and clattering drums. And the songs \u2013 like \u201cGrowing Pains\u201d \u2013 are all the better for it.<\/p>\n
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