Horrorpops

Eric Davidson October 20, 2005 4:00AM

[
          {
            "name": "Related Stories / Support Us Combo",
            "component": "11171270",
            "insertPoint": "4",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "6"
          },{
            "name": "Air - Leaderboard - Inline Content",
            "component": "13002605",
            "insertPoint": "2/3",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "7"
          },{
            "name": "R1 - Beta - Mobile Only",
            "component": "12306405",
            "insertPoint": "8",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "8"
          },{
            "name": "Air - MediumRectangle - Inline Content - Mobile Display Size 2",
            "component": "11034510",
            "insertPoint": "12",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "12"
          },{
            "name": "Air - MediumRectangle - Inline Content - Mobile Display Size 2",
            "component": "11034510",
            "insertPoint": "4th",
            "startingPoint": "16",
            "requiredCountToDisplay": "12"
          }
          
            ,{
              "name": "RevContent - In Article",
              "component": "12571913",
              "insertPoint": "3/5",
              "requiredCountToDisplay": "5"
            }
          
        ]

On their 2004 debut, Hell Yeah!, the Horrorpops weren't exactly Fugazi. The album was like No Doubt's early, embarrassing ska minstrel shows, only the 'Pops promulgated a schmaltzy shockabilly act — complete with colored mohawks, skull tattoos, and leather pants, a pose that afflicts many Rancidites who still think such Hot Topic gear is "street tough." But with their sophomore slab, these Danish clowns find their true auditorium-exploding selves. Gone is most of the stupid ska and lyrical faux-fury, replaced with big groping guitar licks and revved-up sock-hop spooking. A willingness to downshift a gear into a love song and whiplash surprise endings to each tune prove that the 'Pops are well into a reinvention of themselves. Usually, the band's straight-up rockisms and singer Patricia Day's decision to cool off on the girlie cooing would be considered a stripping-down of the band's sound, but it only makes the Horrorpops more accessible. Think a dopey, boppin' Siouxsie and the Banshees, with Rick Rubin panting in the wings to produce the next one.

Horrorpops

This Week's Issue