This review is part of a series looking back at significant albums on their anniversaries. Through the benefit of hindsight we will be viewing the album not just as it was released, but how it stands the test of time, as well as its place in the band’s discography and the genre in general.
Mojo Records – February 27, 1996
How I wish I could sleep, if only I could slow my mind a bit…
Algorithms have always been a part of finding and listening to music on the internet. I’ve been online since the mid-90s, another pre-pubescent dork searching for other dorks to gush about favorite Backstreet Boys and “doll maker” sites in AOL chat rooms that would soon be flooded with teenage boys air dropping dick pics and hard f-bombs on our coifed choreographed cuties.
Before Napster, Limewire, and other disease ridden pirating software wrecked through a series of family PCs, I started getting my music fix from Yahoo! Music’s video stream where I could select multiple genres and “curate” my channel by clicking a thumbs up, thumbs down, or simply skipping through what didn’t quick fit the mood. Music videos were still on MTV at the time, The Box was no longer available on basic cable, but the computer was my new best friend and I had a wide variety of videos with limited commercials interrupting the groove.
In the summer of 1999, Enema of the State had just been released, it was nearly my 11th birthday and pop punk was my newest obsession with the help of my newly curated “Punk/Alternative” channel on Yahoo! Music. The station was flooded with videos from labels both large and small, from Fat Wreck & Epitaph heavy hitters like of NOFX, Bad Religion (heh), MTV spotlight circuit bands like Green Day and Nirvana were peppered in with those on the up and up like Less Than Jake (who had just released Borders and Boundaries on Fat Wreck), Reel Big Fish, and Goldfinger, an early fixture of Mojo Records, a subsidiary of UMG.
Here’s where the beauty of analog kicks back in. There used to be a discount record store on South Street in Philadelphia, so non-descript it didn’t have a name memorable enough for my rattled brain to scavenge, but every week I clunked down those steps and walked right to the giant wooden fixture in the center of the room which hoisted hundreds of discounted CDs spine side up for quick and easy browsing. And wouldn’t you know, on that fateful Friday, sandwiched between a PA hardcore compilation and a Jersey pop punk sampler was Goldfinger’s self titled release. I was a kid with little money and even less access to it, and I was lucky if I could pirate all 12-14 songs of an album at that time, so 5 CDs for $10 later, I was eagerly swapping this record for the CD currently in my portable player to hear more from a band I hadn’t been able to explore beyond 3-4 music videos from 2 different albums.
The album’s opening track, “Mind’s Eye” is still as explosive as it was 25 years ago. The first lyric heard is a big ol’ from-the-bottom-of-the-gut belted “Yeeeeaaaaah!” and soon the drums pick up at a full clip, John Feldman belts out over hammering guitars and before long the chorus teases a cool down before throwing the listener back into the circling pit yet again. There’s so much energy here and throughout the whole album, an energy that isn’t feigned through production magic. There’s genuine raw excitement in the making of this album, I think that really comes through.
The album has a number tonal shifts, much like I imagine the relationship whose story permeates most of the songs. Goldfinger‘s greatest advantage was and always has been their ability to perfectly blend ska and punk rock in a way to make their songs more dynamic, drawing from and nodding enthusiastically to the influences all while not imitating a sound. While the S/T was the only album singer John Feldman didn’t produce, it’s apparent in his song writing styles and arrangements that he works with intention. Every piece fits. Even the skit (Remember skits?). I was blown away by Feldman’s story on Chris DeMakes A Podcast where he discusses how quickly he wrote “Here in Your Bedroom” and how what he thought was a throw away track would became such a huge hit. But it isn’t science. 90s California Punk Rock had an iconic bass tone and snare POP! and no musical expense was spared by drummer Darrin Pfieffer in making sure the rhythm section was punchy, poppy, and on point, while Feldman and Charlie Paulson kept the guitars crunchy and the vocals just as dirty.
The only part of this album that didn’t age well, much like other coveted pop punk albums of our youth, is the album’s attitude toward women or at least the one that has scorned the narrator. I really love this album and Goldfinger. Goldfinger was one of those bands that was always in Philadelphia when I was a kid and I never missed the chance to see them then. But it’s hard being a woman in my 30s singing along to words written in spite by some dude with a broken heart in the 90s when we were less publicly mindful about women’s feelings. John Feldman was a young man then and I’m sure his attitude toward women and their role in a relationships and his attitude towards relationships in general is probably a lot different now. Most of these songs are smartly written, especially a track like “Miles Away,” a song I consider to be one of the best punk rock love anthems. All in all this is still a fantastic album that can and will be emulated in the years to come and will continue to pop up in computer generated playlists for future fans o’ punk to come.
Favorite Tracks: “Only A Day,” “King for a Day,” “Answers”
