Smells like corporate spirit. This is what we find: Crunchy guitars that are well controlled (like Sad Michael's wife, Bernie, who wrabbed his norman lunch). Random screechings from politely tortured machine tools. Distorted vocals. Pictures of one or more pouting prettyboys. Their lawyer's phone number.
Oh dear. It's corporate industra-rock by numbers. It's a great pity, because 'Rakit' is a fine name for a band - if they were an unruly mob who lurched around drunkenly on stage and gave the audience the impression that they'd set about each other if they managed to finish a song at the same time. But they're not. Rakit would appear to be another mostly-solo effort by one Vinny Rakit (kewl name, dude...) who ropes a couple of his better-looking mates in when there's live work to be done. This is the sountrack for stroppy, over-pierced teenagers with 'issues.'
Given that Rakit have been 'endorsed' (whatever that means) by Lip Service - I'm assuming a clothing firm here. I know little and care about as much of west coast US consumer durables - I'd guess that one would run the risk of being deafened by them while being sneered at by a different set of stroppy teenagers should one happen to venture into such emporia by accident.
I further note that they're on the soundtrack of some random film, have played at least one awards ceremony and seem to be actively seeking 'viral marketers.' (My words, not theirs. They call it something else, but if a band is advertising for 'street team members' one is bound to wonder just what the devil's going on.) You can call me a horrible old cynic, but this smells so strongly of Corporate Rawk it's unbelievable. Clearly concepts like 'image' and 'visibility' are uppermost in these people's minds and the music is just a necessary part of the 'package.' I bet they talk about 'product' as well.
The music? Oh, yes. Far too tidy. Polished to a sheen, even. There's one that goes loud-quiet-loud-quiet, one about why homelessness is bad, mmkay? And another about a woman what him wrong. Which, with the songs about anger and sharp objects, probably covers the entire spectrum of teen emotions.
(With apologies to the estate of John Lennon for borrowing half a line from the poem 'Sad Michael' that can be found in the book 'In his own write,' which is a fine work and should be available from all good booksellers and most crap ones.)
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