Bruce Tarney’s latest album Idiots On Parade is a fantastic mix of good musical songcraft and quirky, perky creativity. There is a shiny originality to every track, making each song likely to become someone’s affinity.
Opening title track “Idiots On Parade” begins with Tarney and his support players playing toy instruments, a quirky touch that is mirrored in the higher notes when this piece starts rocking. Tarney projects his higher timbre to reflect his annoyance with this song’s subject matter. Despite this being a complaint song, Tarney’s use of humorous lyrics makes it all entertaining. Sweet backing vocals bring the chorus to life prettily as punchy Kook Lawry electric guitar chords and some hard slapping organ give it all an extra kick. Tim Archibald’s muscular low end notes take over, inspiring Brian Maes to turn up the organ heat and Tarney to unleash a feisty guitar phrase, a driving end to a fun piece.
“Year Of The Rat” is a rollicking rocker, a Tarney belted wedge of wild guitar snaking, keyboard smoldering, rhythm section pushing action. It’s like all the ingredients are still sizzling hot off the stove and stuffed into a wrap. One can feel the incendiary guitar, like the ax is one fire. One can picture the bass guitar being plucked with energetic force. One can picture the drummers arms moving with super speed hitting numerous fills.
“Beg” shows what Tarney can do with broken heart power ballads. His smooth vocal flows rapidly, showing a plaintive edge in every sustain. Backing vocals layer the emotive grist for a thickening of the impact. Beneath that vocal magic Kook Lawry unleashes his ever burning lead guitar line. This number is perfectly constructed to make the listener feel its intense desperation, and the assembly of instrumentation stands out.
“Just Can’t Shake It” is a motion filled guitar ride. Tarney’s voice and the backing vocalists smoothly travel the rails of Danny McCarthy’s rhythmic patterns. As a songwriter, Tarney’s created something that feels fresh while actually maintaining a spirited classic rock vibe. He also drums on this one which is how he maintains a lot of balance between colorful keys and throbbing bass impulses.
Tarney reflects his interest in oldies rock and roll with a fun twist on “96 Tears,” a 1960s tune written by Rudy Martinez and popularized by his band ? And The Mysterians. Tarney and the boys rock this one, relying more on Kook Lawry’s guitar work to develop the main theme and texture instead of relying on producer Brian Maes’s keyboard, even though it was originally known as an organ driven work. This twist allows the boys to rock out with more edge as Tarney moves through things with a perfectly reckless pace.
Tarney has a fantastic songwriting partnership with Maes on this album. “Until I Surrender” is one of the finest examples. Here, Tarney’s infectious sense of fun coupled with his timing and instinct for dynamics works well within the framework Maes constructed. Both artists mirror each other’s tendency to jump into power house eruptions of voice or instrument. Tarney jumps into the chorus with his force of nature energy as the instruments take things up a notch with kick start motion before letting loose with huge amounts of notes.
An epic feeling permeates “Are You Listening.” Large, brilliantly unwieldy, Maes’ piano, grand and eloquent widens the spacial possibilities. That space is filled by Lawry’s six string excursions, edgy, dynamic. Meanwhile, bass player Tim Archibald and drummer Tony DePietro pack each chunk into the right place just like a boxer landing strategic punches. With all of these moving parts wafting around in a hurricane of sound, Tarney is still able to make his mark and his statement. He emerges in between and among these mounds of energy with a vibrant vocal presence, his voice just pouring forth with an amazing sense of control. He keeps a lid on this power until it’s time to unleash, especially when he hits the chorus with MaryBeth Maes and Madeline Maes, two secret weapons that keep fleshing things out with a good feel for how much to assert in each setting.
“Never A Nice Word” feels similar to Alice Cooper’s “No More Mr. Nice Guy.” Tarney is appropriately punky in timbre, asserting his lyrics and chorus with plenty of snark. He’s giving it back to someone who deserves a piece of his mind. His driving vocal, surrounded by smacking lead guitar and a bossy rhythm section, carries an undeniable scorn that we can all relate to.
“Bless Me Father” puts a Brain Maes keyboard hum smack dab in the middle of this piece. That gives this a mock pious vibe that’s fun to listen to while also layering this tightly paced rocker with something special. Moreover, Tarney’s rasp works well, its snarky timbre deliciously ironic.
Close out track “The Dawn” feels like a 1970s classic rock song. Its vibe flows from Tarney’s earthy vocal. He lets loose with a soulful evocation of life, a vocal line that foments beautifully atop Kook Lawry’s blistering guitar phrase as it mounts the groove in an ever growing muscular climb.
Tarney proves a fantastic rock and roll singer and an astute songwriter. What Tarney has written in cahoots with producer, keyboardist Brian Maes is astonishingly good. Tarney and his crew not only have very good songs they have a vibe, a feeling, an attitude the rises to the surface on each track and is as notable as the talents on this recording. The production quality like everything else produced and engineered by Brian Maes at his Briola studios in Lynn, Massachusetts shines with a pristine sound that lets the listener get deep into the music.
